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203 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1993
what were use of my creation, if I were entirely contained here?
I make the chappaties and we start on our meal. And suddenly I remember Anu, her little sparrow mouth open to receive the spoon, banging her own spoon on the table, turning her head to follow Kartik as he dances about the room to amuse her, the spoon sccrapping her cheek...
But tell me, friend, did Laxmi too,
twist brocade tassels round her fingers
and tremble, fearing the coming
of the dark-clouded, engulfing night?
"I rememeber the day the astrologer came home, He read all our horoscopes, told us our futures and we listened as if they were stories about other people. Only my mother's horoscope was not read. "Don't you want to know your future?" I asked her. And she replied this - 'Whats there in my life apart from all of you? If I know all of you are well and happy, I'm happy too.' Did she really mean that? Will I become that way too, indifferent to my own life, thinking it nothing? I don't want to. I won't. I think so now, but maybe my mother thought like when she ws my age. It frightens me. No, it doesn't, I'll never think my life, myself nothing, never."
"To make myself in your image
was never the goal I sought.
"Green sari draped about me
green bangles encircle my wrists,
fill your eyes with the sight, mother,
look at me, fruitful and green.
Silver toe rings twinkle on my toes
silver anklets tinkle as I walk
but, oh mother, I stumble, I fall
my arms sink heavily by my sides.
Tiny fish swiming in the ocean of my womb
my body thrills to you
.
.
Bridging the two worlds, you awaken in me
a desire for life
I know how fearfully I look back, my heart thudding in panic, when I hear footsteps behind me on a dark desserted street.
Dharma, Dharma, Dharma, Dharma, the Mahabharta endlessly, tirelessly repeats. Yet at the end, the poet cries out in despair, I raise my arms and I shout, but no one listens.'