By Rayla Noel from Bangalore, India
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Indian dancer Mohenjo-girl
Your lips never lie, not when I see you
really see the one you are in rust
Like I…
Hey We were too born just another Indian,
Daddy’s eyes, mama’s – side shy ways
( ah the talks we speak!)But you never can lie
look at you
barefoot diva ( I clothe you in my charcoal suit
dress you down to our moral style
Someone said we soft Indian people are breaking- hesitant to
Say it like we feel it Uh
…. Really??
How might I retrace your half shut eyes and
Stance,
waiting to dance, as if not half saying,” Tho ? So?”
Or ” What.”
not a question, just rhetoric.
What draws us
Together
We
Our decades rapped by indifference
our rice drunk with draught
markets romanced by debt
Yet all stark-staring-fabulous,Who said Not.
(Once I met a young criminal with broken eyes, striking beautiful,
who denies > a human is born impossibly nice
everyday
babes with HIV,& retired presidents or senior KG graduates or
Love torn epitaphs, everything is beautiful, so what
unbuckles our national happy feet)
……
This is why and how See,
She taunts me, this old Kid I drew,
draws me into debate
“KYA… WHAT…
Un-hide yourself ” she mouths in stone carved lips
via her buried storeys
I confess a jealousy of her cool old Mohenjodaro eyes shut at
Us, as if we know less
Huh
Amazing job love this periodical every bit of it
Best wishes
Rayala Noel
Beautiful painting& poem
Thank you so much my pleasure!