Joven Sahib and Madame’s Impious Love

Night of 1942 witnessed bloody riots and massacre,

The Joven Sahib went with his men, to defeat the army,

Of his enemies, there were many women, they heard,

Their hearts were filled with excitement, bodies sweating hard,

The Sahib and his men, went to avenge the murders,

Of their wives and people they loved, eyes red with rage,

 

The fort that night saw a bloody sight, blood flowing barbarously,

All men, women were killed, except one, she was hiding,

Behind the curtains, she was a Royal English beauty,

Her white body was epitome of youth, weighing her down with fear,

She looked like a fairy to those men, on earth that night,

The Joven Sahib made the hint, she was his catch,

The men left the room in silence, head bowed down,

 

It was always easy; eating the prey and filling the tongue,

With their blood, but what jammed his feet tonight,

He felt sympathetic rather than anger, towards that youthful body,

The Sahib took her hands and threw her in his jeep,

She made myriad shrills heard by unheard ears,

He took her inside his imperial abode in Raniganj,

 

Dragging her into his room, adorned with dead skins of animals,

The door was bolted; the house was filled with shrieks,

He filled her deep with his masculinity, night after night,

She was his prisoner and there was no escape,

The Royal Madame, with her refusing gestures first,

Ah! Fell in love, with the Sahib, he was fine looking,

Oh! She couldn’t resist herself for the night to come,

To be alongside him and feel his body against her,

 

He saw approval in her moves, and fell in love too,

From the dark room of her life, there was a new dawn,

She was let out in the manor house, though watched with,

Hateful eyes, their love was impious in that oriental world,

She was not bothered for he loved her vigorously,

They mated for life; she became his wedded companion,

 

And created history, the Joven Sahib and her muse,

Oh! What gracious sight of their love lock,

The night of 1942, created a story so wishful,

The bloody night, and many nights of lustful assault,

Culminated into love so pious, now they walked,

On the streets of Raniganj with nobility and dignity,

She was ever dead for her people, but here she lived,

And lived forever as Joven Sahib’s Royal Madame……………………

 

*Monalisa Joshi*

 

 

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