Adorned in colors she steps ,
As a newly wed ,
With hope in her eyes ,
Blessed with looks divine .
Flowing like a stream ,
Dancing like the clouds ,
She filled their life with joy ,
Making all proud .
Her beauty , her duty , her love , her work ,
Praised each one ,
As she dazzled like a spark .
Beaming glowing radiating shine ,
Clothed days together ,
Wishing happiness to
carry on forever and ever .
Red or blue or yellow or green ,
Colors what she loved ,
Making their life
vibrant ,
Never wanting to stop .
But ,
She never knew ,
Everyone’s not born so lucky ,
To get bathed in sunlight ,
Coz swabbed will be
the days in blue .
Those colors those praises those care those love ,
It all just swept apart ,
Giving way to a melancholy journey ,
Awaiting to start .
White was her world , white her life ,
Complementing the blankness
,
Undeclared arrived that misfortune ,
Never hinting even a pinch .
Deceiving her wailing cries ,
It all got washed ashore ,
Escaping clasped clinch .
A living curse
labeled she was ,
Coz that’s what a widow is ,
In yesteryear or today’s world ,
And in every one’s eyes .
Forgotten forbidden secluded she remained ,
From festivities in the courtyard ,
Fate bestowed upon her ,
Not blessings but a life unusually hard .
Years passed on and time moved on ,
But she didn’t ever realize ,
What was her mistake ,
Where exactly did she go wrong .
Then , one fine day it came again ,
Spreading splendor across ,
In every street in every house ,
Indiscriminating lament or loss .
Tiny hands dabbed in colors quietly sneaked in ,
Declaring a ‘ Happy
Holi ‘ with a radiant grin .
A tinge of yellow touched her clothes ,
Making her feel alive ,
Begging forgiveness to her virtuous heart ,
Having punished , though it wasn’t her crime .
She was pulled into the world once more ,
To live to smile to share ,
Scattered in air the yellow the red ,
Vibrated across the blue ,
Rinsing away strains ,
Carrying away with it ,
Every settled down pitiful gloom .
I've read so many posts on holi these two days. This one was the most unique and is my favourite. Love the way the stoey of the widow flows in the poem. From the wedding to her distress and back again to that hope.
ReplyDeleteUnique and Strong.
ReplyDeleteLovely post :)
Thank you so much for the appreciation ....I wrote this after reading a news item about the widows in Vrindaban who defied tradition and celebrated holi with a happy heart . I just thought how difficult it must be for someone to get restrained from these small little happiness of life without even knowing the crime ....
ReplyDeleteTrue true. I looked up the article now :)
ReplyDeleteWow Dr, Sushree this is such an emotion filled poem.Loved it!
ReplyDeleteI can feel the emotions. Strong and True.
ReplyDeletehttp://www.anshulgautam.in/2014/04/calling-humanity.html
Lovely and beautiful. I wish everybody gets back to such hope. Well written Sushree :)
ReplyDelete