Primal Passions

by S. A. Hamid

There are no crossroads;

only a long, weary path

unending, immaculate.

No dust or blasts of wind

heavy rain

shining wet leaves,

but a clinical cleanliness

planned passion

time-tabled existence.

In the distance is the sound of thunder

Flashes of lightning illumine

a gulmohar swaying in the wind

And under it the sultry woman

writhing in the mud;

on her brown body

patterns of yellow, red, green

and the rain.

There is the distance to be covered

crawling, slipping away

from under the barbed wire

pursued by bloodhounds,

bullets—

But she is there

writhing in the mud

under the gulmohar

in the rain.

(from The Ontology of Desire: New and Selected Poems, New Delhi: Authorspress, 2015.

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