The Brave Pedestrian

When the cold steel sliced into my belly, There was no pain, only discomfort. Gazing into her eyes from a kissing distance, I wondered Did they show betrayal, hatred Or did they continue to speak of love? Maybe both. Maybe neither. They spoke a brutal truth: “You are you and I am I... And since you question that, Let your flowing blood answer your questions.” Ah! Blackness came and went. Life ebbed with each heartbeat. Blood in spurts stained her fingers As they held the dagger firmly in place. They were the reason I was still standing. And then came the release And a gentle shove backward Dropped me to the floor, still gazing. We never lost eye-contact Even when my head struck the stair With a crack that rang deep in my nostrils. Kneeling, she took the kerchief from my pocket Deliberately wiped each finger clean And caressed my cheek. I pouted, Mmmwah. A silent flying kiss. She playfully caught it in her hand And...

My hair I shred, my blouse I tear, My breasts I beat, I wail in grief. Gopala graced my humble hut And I… I lay asleep! My lover hugged me in my bed Cupping these breasts of mine. With whispered words and gentle love He sought to break my sleep. But I… I heard him not! Oh woe! I lay there like a corpse! Dreaming all night of Gopala I dreamt all night of love! I wake to find my Lord had Lain with me all night in bed. Oh! Blessed am I! Ah! Cursed am I! I weep, I beat my head. His footprints at the door are there, Bedsheets are all askew. My Lord, witness my breasts and hair, My shame! O Lord, I grieve! [ Footnote: To understand the essence of this poem, p lease think in the context of the gopis of Brindavan waiting, hoping, praying for a nightly visit from their divine Gopala . Assume the mindframe of a lone gopi who unsuccessfully tried to stay awake for her chance to be with her lover god.] P Nayak is reminded of Meerabai’s bhajan: palka par ...