Would you draw me with my sari coming undone?
The sleeves of my jacket a little torn?
Feet bleeding? Well, there's your auspicious footprint
The blade in their hands has nothing on my eyes
Dismembering the fabric of this world
That has dragged me by my hair and heart
Out of my clothes and skin, naked
Onto the stone where heads roll
Then let the heads roll
Let the tongues loll
Let them hang, strung together
On the heaving bosom of the raging Goddess.
My mother, do not weep
Do not let the world sleep
Do not let the anger seep
Away, into apathy's keep
I am the voice of an ancient woman
Burnt on pyres not of her own
Or what is left after
Along with bits of hair matted with blood
Would I be drawn soiled?
Am I the bruise that purpled,
From a suffering of centuries?
So old, so defining
So cold, so tiring.
Once upon a time, I used to paint
So all I can think of now
Is how will you draw me?
Every colour in the world
Lies bleeding with me on this pavement after all.