Some muted expressions gain wings in verse.So I chose to start off with a poem that I wrote,for which I won the DOM MORAES PRIZE for poetry at 17 and was elected as one of India's promising young poet.I know I am bragging a lot,but just cant seem to help it.Here is the poem,
THE CHARWOMAN
The thin film of water over her iris
Mirrored the dark grey floor she violently swept
The whiteness of her palms was camouflaged by dirt
The wetness of her palms wrinkled her fingers.
In her rising and falling movements her vertebrae jerked.
The sonic sounds of tinkling water hitting the vessels
The smearing of soot on her poplin frock,she bothered not
Her kiss curls indulged in an altercation with her eye
Not condescending she went on
Letting her eyelashes do the peacemaking
When all was done and her eyelids drooped
Her eardrums reverbrating with the mouthful by the mistress
Threw her out of her blissful sleep
Not resenting she dipped and wringed rolls of linen
Allowing the cross on her bosom to be drenched by foam
When the dusk brought with it the crimson hues
She let once more,her coarse leathered slippers
Bite and chew the callus of her feet
And undoing the strings of her apron dirty
She scurried into slimy lanes that smelt of burnt rubber
Her visage grew aglow with warm fondness
As the air was enriched by the affections of theine
Cherubins two hugged her tight as doors flew open
Ushering her in with song of their whispers
They treated their mother to the favours befitting a queen.
