Deeya, a feminist poet, invokes Durga, the Divine Mother, the fountainhead of Shakti (Energy), in an intense poem, as the special feature, exclusively for Different Truths.
The porous moon on the
Ubiquitous sky of a placid evening
Reflects the pool of waters and
Madness in Durga’s eyes.
The autumn blooms in her skin
She is the magic birthed
By the sky and the earth – Kailash
Is sacred, monumental, nevertheless
The earth allures her to home
Durga is a name; an enigma
She is a purple caress to an avid desire
A longing that runs havoc in
The veins, a hashish of oblivion
– Every voice that rings through
– The sun, showers, hail and mist
– An occult that weaves magic
In sweat, through the thick and thin.
Bereaved wishes – violence and strife
Inequality, ignominy decors the forehead
Of Durga – raise your hands in praise
Futile prayers – Do you realise her?
She’s in extremity, in the song and
Celebration called life. Do not paint her
In evil colours, in nudity, in deflowering
In catastrophe – Can you realise her?
©Deeya Dey Bhattacharya
Photos from the Internet
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