By Nitusmita Saikia
Contributing Author for Spark Igniting Minds
Time to defuse the bhakti,
After all clay is clay,
Let me play,
A statue of dead clay,
It's the termination day.
Nine days or nine months,
tolerance plays the ultimate one.
Kept me alive for all those offer,
Offer of bhakti,
Despite the gender inequality,
Great to see my worshippers,
Rejoicing my blessings I shower.
From the sea shore to the big pandal,
in one eighty degree turn of godly life,
Only the nature's ambience faded away
In the blended cocktail of thoughts and taste,
From a civilisation to another civilisation,
I am still the mother that rides a lion,
Not a rape victim of clay play for God sake.
The next day is my departure,
After nine days of stay with my worshippers,
Great visarjan ritual in the chest of rivers,
Despite my choice,
they throw me in dirty water,
Same ending with mother and daughter,
Difference was only my body,
A body of clay matter,
The termination of overflowing all puja offers.
Broken limbs of my statue protrude here and there,
Somewhere in some abandoned corner,
in a dry malnourished body of water,
It's only mud or clay matter,
But what about the earthly durgas...
Women around the world and its corner!
About the Author
Nitusmita Saika is by profession an instructor in National Cadet Corps, She writes both in English and Assamese. She has been writing poetry for e-magazines like FM online magazine for couple of years.
Her poems have been published in various anthologies under www.realisticpoetry.com and much more.