Question

You ask

Which virgin had left behind
The turmeric paste
On the bathing ghat,
Applying which on its body
The mustard flower
Looks so bright,

Answering which desperate
Farmer’s prayer
Has the sea has forgotten
Its mischief to create a flood?

Collecting the tears
Of which first widow
Of the world
Has the sky in disguise
Been telling mankind
That this is rain?

Kindly free me from such riddles,
Help me deviate
From my path
Of inner conflict
Of entangled words.

Until today
I have unable to fathom

How the new dhoti
Around one’s loins
Gets so rapidly frayed

How a wonderful
Bestiality enters
A closed fist.

Seeking answers
To these questions
Is like angling
In flood waters.

Maybe I know things.

I have been warned.
Even if a single broken word
Pops out of my mouth
Under the pretext of an answer
My tongue will be severed
And I will turn to stone.

QUESTION