Words, words, words !
Words given birth by me
Words nurtured in my womb
Words nourished at my breasts
My bouncy, beautiful, baby-girls, all.
... ... ... ...
They are not always bouncy
Nor are their beauty for ever
This is my grief
One exhilarates now
Yet she exasperates the next moment
She fills me with strength and surety now
Yet again,
She drains me by dullness and doubts.
My womb is full of girls unborn.
I am in a dilemma.
I despair of giving birth to them.
But I want them madly.
I have to take them as they come.
Ill or well formed.
I cannot stop
Fragility is my first name
Vulnerability is my vocation.
... ... ...
An experience, a moment,
A human, Me. She, He,
Stamp of Infinity on them all,
Innocence, merry mischief, joy,
Writ in Gold on the wrapper
But words, words, words
They are all clothed by words
There is not a single good eye on earth
Everyone has goggles, inside or out
None can see in the brilliance of the wordless
splendour
They dare not, they cannot let go of words
They clothe themselves
They force others to dress up.
... ... ...
I ? How do I do ?
I too dare not.
I delight to dress up
I dance in different costumes
To the mirror, to girls of my gang
It is all a green room affair.
I don't face strangers
But the green room expands
Strangers start to string into my shining set
Then I revel and reveal myself
But still clothed by words
Fine words, expressive words, sometimes.
But still words, after all.
Coarse, crude, dull, drab dresses
Or silken, smooth, shining, colourful,
Filmy, fine textured clothes,
Wondergirl Veronica's Vanderwhat wears
But they too don't reveal all
They dim, they diffuse the light within.
They too clothe and cover, after all.
... ... ... ...
Words, words, words,
They are my despair, they are my delight
They drain me dry, they drive me on
I grope in darkness, I look in light
For the wordless word,
For me the Princess' and
My Empress' real new clothes.
5.23 pm
>11 Mar 1995 < 15 Mar 1995
Temple Basement
Hyderabad
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