Devi

Deeya opens our eyes to the dehumanisation of Devi, the girl and woman, who is sadly powerless. She is killed in the womb, is deflowered. She slaves to earn her bread and dances at a wayside bar. A poem for the Durga Puja special feature, in Different Truths.

The sun is a bit lazy today
its rays are playful and coy
being chased by the wind
today is “chaturthi
Ma has arrived

Early morning dew
was wily,
amorous with the jasmine
soon they would be gathered
for the piteous offerings

Devi brings in
Her gracious smile
triggered by drummers
who deftly plays
Devi a shimmering bride
has brought her children
home

to dispel darkness and sin
as the pitch perfects
and the air’s frenzy
we offer ourselves to chant

We sing the effigy
Devi is somewhere else
among those toiling women
forced into menial jobs….

Devi slaves
beaten black and blue
killed in womb
deflowered too

Devi is flesh and blood
mourning her losses
Devi is selling chips
or at a wayside bar-
dancing to the tune of madmen
She is thus a passage from life to death

i

©Deeya Bhattacharya

Pix from Net.

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