Life without a Man

I thought i saw you in a battleship,

Looking straight into the abyss of uncertainty,

With certainty 

Laced in the darkness of the Kohl in your eyes.

Even in that green silk Sari of yours,

With those black leather sandals that grew too old,

Long before I tried to put my little feet into them 

And walked around the house in hopes of becoming you,

Even with your hair tied neatly in a bun

Tucking away all your sorrows and pains so that they were invisible,

You looked more of a warrior to me,

Than Achilles ever will.
I look closely to find a trace of fear in your eyes,

Battleships never have reinforcements afterall,

But when I find you at peace, devoid of  any worry,

I realize you were always too alive to depend on lifeboats and lifejackets.
The loose end of your sari floats into the air,

Like the hoisted flag of the ship,

With a mast so high that the mist refuses to touch it,

The darkness refusing to intrude the aura of your lambent golden pallu.

When they compare you with the famous man in his metal armour,

You show them that there’s a ‘man’ in every wo’man’,

Whose sword is her womb,

And her sheath, is the countless battles she won against the metal men with metal hearts, every single day.
When the nymphs come to warn you that the nemesis sails your way,

When they tell you to go West before it’s too late,

You smile gently and tell them,

“In our journey, there are often short intermissions,

Before which, the light starts diminishing,

But if we abandon our paths Midway and go West,

How will we know that the light always shines from the East?”
I woke up before the unsheathing of the swords, 

Before the catapults went ablaze.

And yet,

I still see you in a battleship,

In a green sari,

With black sandals and the bun,

Sailing to face your nemesis,

Your life

Without a man.

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