a letter to roocha

dear richa,

I know, there runs the vedic blood in your veins.

you have been breastfed by twin-mothers :

the shriti and smriti.

and you are beautified with brahminic crest.

I know, your childhood passed

in the courtyards swept by my father.

you had first seen our huts-

beyond the boundaries of our village

at the early teens of gaurivrata.

and for the first time

was born the nausea

in your innocent eyes.

you had seen people

divided into four divisions in descending order

as per the rule of varnashrama.

richa, my clansmen still preserve that early

introduction you disgusted.

still the dog of your street barks

at my father in loin-cloth shouting the service of anoja

to the whole of the village.

still in the supper,

mother brings begged rice.

we eat and enjoy and live.

that very name of your classmate happens to recite our teacher :

janmana jayate sudra, sanskarat dwija uchyate.

you happeded to have a new introduction

with the help of social-sciences-shelf of our library.

you offer me formal congrats

for the dazzling medal at the convocation.

that’s not all, richa.

I love you from the depths of my heart.

there is only a fence of ignorance between us

as is between my hut-and your house in the village.

if crossed, my feelings will blossom

like a bough in the spring.

rich, you are dearer than the richa of Vedas.

you are my love-line from meghdoot,

you are my rubaiyat from Omar Khayyam