A Woman's Surrender
Down down there
Deep deep in the hidden recesses
There lies a little space
Vacant and welcoming…
That’s where she resides!
And when she submits herself
To him, who fills that vacant space
Willingly does she forgo
All that she once believed in
And when she submits herself
She’s not mere body
All that’s buried in the niches
Of the subconscious
Come to the fore for
A willing surrender
And when she submits herself
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poem by Indira Babbellapati
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After a yaksha-gana performance
They wore elaborate masks
Resplendent clothes studded
With dazzling stone work
Each time they moved into
The light zone, I blinked my eyes
They whirled like colorful tops
Let loose by a playful child
And in no time stood steady
To deliver a dialogue
I failed to comprehend
There were men women
And men dressed as women
In one corner stood the drummer
And the singer was at his high
Least concerned of the microphone
In the dark auditorium I sat:
An abstract painting of no symmetry
Hanging on a lackluster wall
As if to wash off my guilt
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poem by Indira Babbellapati
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A Poem That Peeked Within
where do i belong
i seem to ask myself
more often than ever
as i float on the surface
of a yet to be titled world
i attempt to rise
above the familiar and not so familiar
world of your perennial touch
thinly poised on the cycle of birth and death
but only end up as an insubstantial shadow
on the fading life line
at the level crossing
as thousand hands
prepare to undress me
throwing up the ugliness
of the cactus hidden within
between the covers of
this dispassionate musings
that in general parlance
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poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Battling A Surreal World
alone in the house
reading the news of the day
i slipped into a nap on the sofa
a sudden chill down the spine
shook me out of the day-mare
it was a world mysteriously chilling
my stiffled screams that failed to
leave my vocal cords were
heard by none but me
i tried to walk but remained
where i first took my step
i moved around people
whose heads were
strangely missing
only the bodies moved about
foolish of me...how could
those without heads can
ever hear me or see me!
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poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Destiny
Dasarath’s indulgent love for Ram
Ram’s absolute committment to word and deed
Kaikeya’s undue desire
Lakshmana’s allegiance to the brother
Ravan’s lust and arrogance
Hanuma’s unwavering dedication
Sita’s uncalled for suspicion
Bhishma’s fervor to continue the family line
Dritarashtr’s uncompromising love for the son
Gandhari’s decision to blindfold
Kunti’s girlish whim
Yudhishtar’s weakness for dice
Draupadi’s vivacity and laughter
Duryodhan’s jealousy
Kamsa’s in imprisoning Devaki Vasudev in same cell
Karna’s loyalty
Gautama's in bird, beggar and body dead
Their destinies humble us
To infuse our frail beings
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poem by Indira Babbellapati
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In The Dark Portals
may have lived
several moonlit nights
but only one dropp of
moon-light breaths
a new strength
a new vigour
a new awareness
that cascades through
the dark nights of life
may have absorbed
several sparkles of smiles
but only one sparkle
remains the source of
a new strength
a new vigour
a new awareness
that shines through the
remaining darkness of life
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poem by Indira Babbellapati
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a Fantasy Re-lived
A once upon a time
Live fantasy insulated me
Just as on that evening when
It diluted misery to its last dreg
Dissolving it in the scent of
Freshly watered grass
And the melting sun
Twilight shadows
Played upon the eager skin
Till darkness descended
To breathe life into your hands
That picked the water droplets
Off my faltering feet
How we’re cut off from
The physicality of the surroundings
Even the gardener, reduced to a dot
In the fading light of the sun
Only the scent we had absorbed
Wafting around…
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poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Monsoon Woes II
Nothing to set
Summer apart
Fading monsoon dreams!
Scorching sun
Dripping sweat
Awaiting rain!
Sterile cloud
Pricking heat
Rain holiday!
Reptiles crawling
Spewing hot venom
Respite sought!
Hot vapours rose
Still thirsty, sun gulped rain
Humid heat returns!
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poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Through A Peek-hole
From high up on the hill
Goddess Durga oversees
The three intercepting canals
And the mighty river
Tears of an ancient
Personal sorrow
Flow into the river...
The surrounding hills
Jutting into the river
Stood mute witnesses
To those dark shady nights
Absorbing the muffled
Helpless innocent protestations
Why did the Goddess
Prefer to turn a deaf ear
Contrary to her image
Of squelching the evil?
Night after night
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poem by Indira Babbellapati
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A Night Poem
Last night
Staccato stride
Of silent thoughts
That occupied the vacant mind at sleep
Threw me into a strange state
Thoughts I couldn’t identify
Kept hitting at the fluid brain-walls
Like small pebbles hurled by
A little boy into a stagnant puddle just like that
Each ripple catapulted me into
An indescribable state of nightmare
At some corner of the blank space
A faceless you stood there
Watching me break into a cold sweat
And running and running in vain
I stood there vulnerable and fixed
In spite of my running endlessly…
Through the abstract images
Of rocky cliffs, tree-tops, curling seas
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poem by Indira Babbellapati
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