Three Poems for Her

The Weaver

Let me weave
the red and white risha
the black rigwnai
and connect to my womanhood,

Let me weave
the pachra and achal
celebrate geometric motifs
and connect to my creator,

Let me weave
the lotus
on the kantha
and connect to the cosmic energy,

Let me weave
the wild and the beast
on my necklace
and connect to nature,

Let me weave
the sky
intertwine the warp and the weft
and connect to my being.

I am the weaver
I am the seeker.

Memories

Wish I had
a memory like a sieve,
dim and elusive
to let go my traumas,
faintly sketched
to erase the heartbreak,
hazy and foggy
to efface all my agonies and grief,
blurred and faint
to obliterate the bruises and nightmares.

Wish I had
memories wistful and reminiscent
of approval and acceptance,
jovial and cherished
of motherhood and nuptial bliss,
nostalgic and happy
to freeze the childhood innocence,
fond and memorable
to bottle my self-esteem,

Wish I could cease
tossing between remembering and forgetting
and tame the ‘woman’ in me!!!

Entropy

She writes
because her life is full of sorrows
she is a poet.

She wears khadi
because it is the fabric of freedom,
a feminist dissemblance
she carries.

She is unrealistic
an astounding performer
when she walks the ramp
overt on the stage.

She is fake
loves loud make up, designer dresses
she is the most sophisticated female
she is an air hostess.

She is mysterious
over decorated,
hides her flaws and predicts other’s future,
could not foresee her own
she is a tarot card reader.

She is erratic
the mad woman in the attic,
her brain is entropic
possessing an immutable identity
but pretending to be like Kaali .

All these censorious remarks
don’t upset me anymore
Yes, I am erratic, mysterious, feminist, poetess,
hoaxing and debunking
Myths about myself
I stand tall!

Art by Raneesh P.R, Visual Editor, Indian Ruminations