She crushed me like grain.
Flying husk dust gathered
scattered like rain.
I flowered
into sharp chillies
and burning words
devoured my father’s brain.
No, don’t touch me.

Don’t pluck me.

Tejimola is my name.
She threaded me like a loom.

Strings upon strings tethered

feathered like a womb.

I soured

into tart fishes

and spinning words

showered scale hooks of gloom
No, don’t bait me.

Don’t hate me.

Don’t lead me to my doom.
She trapped me like a cloud.

Blue whirling wisps shattered

weathered like a shroud.


I cowered

into spry swallows

and soaring words

clamoured a strain to the crowd.
No, don’t snare me.
Don’t scare me,

said Tejimola out loud.
 
[This poem is my version of an Assamese folk tale that my mother used to tell us...
It had all the usual ingredients: Cruel stepmother, loving, yet absent father
and a resilient heroine who refused to die.]


Aamir Khan is back! See him in the ‘mustached’ avatar in Mangal Pandey. Click here to know all about the movie.

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