Pilgrimage of life

thou art humiliated all thy life.

pleased or annoyed,

i called thee names as i do with my clan-deity

and still thou continue to shower blessings all thy life.

in Flavia's modern day miseries

or Damayanti's mythical sufferings,

it is i who chase thee like cantankerous Kali in all ages.

but now don't lie petrified for centuries like Ahilya,

waiting for the masculine kick for resurrection.

rise like a phoenix from the dowry-doused pyre.

raise thy new-found feminist fist

to break thy chastity belts.

rejoice in thy march to liberation.

i will now learn to bear the burden of thy chores :

i will boil some barley for the kids,

like Shravana, i will look after the blind and aged parents,

like Jesal, i will wash thy rags dripping with menstrual discharge.

and yes,

no more babe shall be born from thy womb,

nor even from the doctor's test-tube.

i shall make room for the little God in the cradle of my heart.

for thou art to soar seven steps high in the sky,

cut all anchors off  this Adam's globe.

and set off as the helms-woman

of the affairs of the whole universe.

but i beg of thee , dear Manushi,

don't throw me off mid-seas.

i shall go on rowing happily

for the rest of our jivan-jatra, the pilgrimage of life

let us swap our legendary halves

and reverse our roles :

be the lover or the beloved, as you will

thou art my chetna, my chingari, my sahiyar,

thou art my conscience, my torchbearer, my companion.