White satin sheets on a marital bed
untainted by the passions of my past
a pure union sanctified by fire
my husband but a stranger...
black leather seat covers and tinted glasses
a car enveloped in the darkness of the night
a love free from the bonds of forced fidelity
and I a whore, (they said)
..red sindoor shimmers in my maang
the bride of a stranger
I have married the norms whose stench I could feel
ever since I was born
The night is so bright
devoid of the soothing familiarity of blackness
red silk on virgin white sheets
like fire on the surface of silvery moonlight
or the soft waters of a glassy stream
but why do I feel like a whore?
My crimson sari on the innocent sheets
sprawled insolently seems to taunt me
forgotten the hooks hurriedly clasped?
the stolen kisses of a forbidden love?
two bodies united last night
two souls became one a lifetime ago
The red sindoor - my license to be loved mocks me
the tell-tale signs of my marital night fade away
but the memory of lost love deepens
like the henna of my wedded hands.
