Parijatha’s Soliloquy

 

Her braid long snake like reaching till loins,

Hung on bare back of her’s, she is dusky skin,

She plucked me from her garden, I shied,

With love she adorned her braid besetting me,

I blossomed more in pride, filling her tresses,

With aroma mine so fine, timid yet vigorous,

She waited for someone tonight, calmly on bed,

 

The hearth dark, dimly lit with lantern light,

I saw him come, dark toned tall strong body,

Carved muscles of a peasant’s hand, he was wet,

All sweat with his body filled with manly odour,

He stood in his dirt stained loincloth, bare chest,

Keeping his plough on earth he glanced quiet,

At her, who was all and so was he aroused high,

 

Pouncing over her bared strong chest, wild yet gentle,

He took off her khadi attire, loosened her braid,

I fell on her bosom, on her heart, hearing the beats,

That said his name; I wanted to be there forever,

But soon his hands crushed me, I bled in pain,

And more and more I was all pressed harder,

The more he was into her, she moaned, didn’t I!

 

Between twain bare lovers no breeze shall pass,

Heavenly love of warm bodies, I saw it all,

I had lost myself into them, I have been trodden,

Into their Kamasutra, lying beside them pondered,

 I, what beautiful unison of man and woman!

To this I felt pride, pride of being lover’s delight,

And gave fine essence till I breathed my last,

 

My blood has no colour; my pain has no sound,

Still even I love her heart, with dew she again,

Picked me from earth, my soul still aromatic,

I have given love mark, last night my saffron hue,

 On bosom her‘s, she love me too, making a rough bun,

Smiled, once again putting me dried on her tresses!

 And this purely a soliloquy, is Parijatha’s told tale.

 

*Monalisa Joshi*

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