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You are breaking down,
Sobbing and sighing,
The teardrops trickling down the cheeks,
Is this called Love?
To love and to dump elsewhere?
Love, but abandon you not,
Love, love you, but betray you not.
My God, how to make her understand
The poor and simple heart,
How to console her,
The broken self of hers,
A heart so sick and ailing
And love-lorn?
A simple daughter
In the hands of mine
And the tears splashing over the arms,
A self so hurt and wounded,
How to give solace to her? |
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Comments on this Poem
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The Myth of The Dark Daughter
The pains of the dark daughter,
The troubles and tribulations of hers
None has come to comprehend,
None has
What it marauds
Her poor and humble self,
A daughter of the land
Hardworking
To make an earning,
Having remained unfed and unclothed,
Feeding her brother first
Then talking the left-overs,
Helping her mother,
Yet to go to other man's house.
A daughter a daughter,
May be it she is dark,
Dark is dark,
Let it be,
What it was, what it is
And what it will continue to hold onto,
dark will remain dark,
The mystery of it unveiled
And unravelling,
The myth of the Dark Creation,
The Womb of all,
Dark is dark,
Let her be,
As Kali is dark.
A terracotta figurine or a sculpture
In love or bonding,
Devotion and dedication,
Standing in
Faith and doubt,
Basking in sun and shower
Is she the poor girl,
The poor but loving
And affectionate daughter of the land,
May be she a devadasi
Betrayed in the name of holy religion,
May she a sevadasi
Exploited by the sadhus and others
Or a nautch girl
Repenting during the old age
When broke it loose the ghungharoo
And scattered on
Or lost she the lustre of
To turn into a replica.
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very touchy..
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