There is always a single woman in 

 

every man's life

Gita Janaki  

He used to call her mermaid,

when she came straight from the shower,

to the room, utterly naked.

 

He named the tiny pools that she made,

Pacific, Atlantic, Indian, Arctic...

 

He explored her for the salt in her body,

At times, the salt turning sweet, bitter.

Rising like a wave, she towered over him,

splashing the sea all around, it flooded.

Measuring her curves, the depths,

he forgot his counts and arithmetic.

 

Like an enchantress, she taught him,

the ones, twos, threes, and the like.

Like a disciplined novice, he sat at her threshold,

picking up things meticulously under her guidance.

The strange fragrance of her underbelly never left him,

it followed him through all the women he knew later.

When earthquakes curved up the earth,

He was thrown into an orgasm, remembering her waves.

When isolated in war zones, the war cries reminisced him,

Of her ecstatic, distorted horrifying groans.

 

There remains always a single woman in every man's life,

Whom he seeks in all others he meets,

Whom he loves with the salt of his existence.

 

We reduce our seasons to just one

 

I stand in the blind spot of your eyes.

But you describe me to the last detail.

I wonder at the accuracy with which your determine,

the latitude and longitude of the minutest spot in my body.

 

You navigate my straits, deft seaman,

summon the salt off my body.

You blow my mind like a kite,

in the tornadoes, but with utmost care.

 

The stars that you buy  from the sea gulls,

the warmth of the ocean currents,

the pearls from the priced oysters,

you barter them for a whiff of my fragrance.

 

I try to hoodwink you with many a colour,

but your gaze retains me, your tiny minnow.

You drive me crazy with your rich harvest of rainbows,

I search in you for my choicest spring,

and find that you bloom even in winter, like me.

 

We reduce our seasons to just one,

making us one with the elements,

 

and flit about, as a single papillon.

 

When I think of you, my alphabets leave me.

 

Woman,
when I think of you,
I hear a thousand blooms 
popping open in the forests,
beyond the wide waters.
The wind drunk with your umpteen fragrances,
treads with faltering steps.
The ocean wears away the intoxication,
but the memory of your odours drives it wild.
It rides the waves in a frenzy,
my mind races with it.
I gaze at you in wonder,
the umpteen rivers that stream from you.
Standing at your bifurcation,
I feel a lost traveller.
You smile bewitchingly beautiful,
I am bereft of my wizardry.
Woman,
when I think of you,
my alphabets leave me.
I float on the waves,
a jelly fish.
y

oStrictly confidential

 

Placing his finger on his lips,

he admonished me from afar.

"Strictly confidential"

I search the cosmos,

and finds just us.

The stars were yet to be born,

life was confined to us.

Laughing at his lunacy,

I extended my arms like wind,

across the oceans,

seized him in a terrifying embrace,

danced on the crest of the waves,

like a nimble-footed danseuse,

drenching him in the wake.

The surf settled on him like words,

I garlanded them into poetry around his neck.

"Shall I?" he seeks my permission to touch it.

I break it, and words become damselflies.

In joyous merriment, we signed a pact,

to which I was the witness to him

and he the witness to mine.

Our hearts which were in constant conversation,

peeped out of our bodies,

and skipped a beat over this beautiful drama!

I won't call you cruel, for I exist,

I know,

you will shred me to pieces,

and feed the sharks.

But will keep

my heart as a souvenir,

drinking from it every evening,

at your leisure.

Surprisingly, for others,

I won't call you cruel,

for I exist,

nothing more than as the heart.

You may shred the vestiges.

I remember the day when,

you sliced your vocal chord,

and blew it to the winds bound to me.

But then,

I had  transformed my ears to birds,

and freed them unto the sky.

I saw your voice,

but never heard them.

My beloved,

the songs of love,

means nothing to me.

The thought that you exist,

is a heavenly music,

that consoles me.

Please shred me to pieces,

and feed the beings of the sea.

Drink from my heart,

sweet is the poetry,

which emanates from a heart,

 

loved by the love of you!

 

(Gita Janaki is a bilingual poet who experiments with expression of love)

 

 

2ur lips

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