By Arundhathi Subramaniam In the women’s compartmentof a Bombay localwe searchfor no personal epiphanies.Like metal licked by relentless acetylenewe are welded –dreams, disasters,germs, destinies,flesh and organza,odours and ovaries.A thousand-limbedmillion-tongued, multi-spousedKali on wheels. When I descendI could chooseto dice carrotsor dice a lover. I postpone the latter. © 2001, Arundhathi SubramaniamFrom: On Cleaning Read more…
Hair all tucked in; shorn of jewelleryLike newly minted doctors gathering degrees;Swaddling along in blue cloth slippersThe women in pink robes On the operation tableLike a chicken to be slaughteredThe pain throbs deep intoThe abyss of one’s core Nails digging into one’s skinThe prick of pain buried as theSensations swept Read more…
The bodies lay out on the Goan sandFleshy and unclad,Blushing with healthFed on life’s luxuriant proprieties… The beach perfect shapesThe bikinis cut to perfectionThe suntan oil primed to colourthem in a becoming olive tan! She came along, her Saree tornIn places she tries to hide her curves,Her complexion heightened to Read more…
A gleaming dark invisible virus took us in, A contagion, like a fiery fiend on a spin, Consuming men, women and children within, In countries and continents, setting footprints in. On a war footing, Doctors worked in, through nights till the sun came in Midst sea of deaths, fear, came Read more…