Naina Agarwal

मृदु भावों से लिहसि पुती, अक्षर रस अंकित संवाद, अवसाद, अभिव्यंजना से लैस, एक तरफ रखी सिमटी कोने में, स्मृति-भर पर सार्थक मनोभाव है; तुम्हारी एक किताब मेरे पास है । ***

I read an article and scrolled further up, overlooking, denying its importance. Till it came back again and again, dressed in various costumes every time - dancing, mocking, ridiculing me; sneering at my privilege. It once spat on the ground when I insisted on tradition and casually chuckled at an enemy piece. Clearly I couldn't overlook anymore -  it had made allies in time. So I began by observing in silence studying, understanding - she/her ,  they/them ,  he/him "You cannot ignore me anymore -  I do not need your support I will rise in time I am rising now - To paint rainbows in the sky and on the ground." ***

I’ll meet you where it rains acid on the impotent fields across the exhausted canal. Where the walls are parched with debris, And air dusted with coal tar; Skyscrapers surrounded by diarrhoea. Where the sprung laden fountains in the increasing grotesque growing weed sprite Chlamydomonas and Cocci. We’ll tear, hitting, banging the china dish; Petrified mannequins; Plundered domes and scratched epitaphs- Naked body, armours of unicorns in the rosy markets, Cheeks sunken dry in the midnight solar lamps; Making love in front of an impaired bathroom lizard serenading in a cheap lodging. Banging coffee mugs. Lust. Pity. Self-hatred. Pity. Lust. Banging books. My fingers sore by talking to various men. And women. Staring at keyholes and guilty walls; Peeping through windowpane; towards a distant asterism. And speaking to self, alone in 13F, Community flats, Dystopia. ***

Scene-Still from Wake Up Sid (2009)   I will gradually forget you like a child erasing his pencil drawing. Tonight, I will rub your eyes; tomorrow the parting of your lips. A week later, I will remember nothing but your white shirt. And two months later, you will be nothing but a smudge; a faint outline caused by an inexperienced hand. ***

कल उसने एक रात ओढ़ी थी; चाँद को माथे पर लगाया था।  एक डिब्बी जुगनू लपेट; अंगुली भर तारे समेट; रात की रानी के साथ पिरो -  बालों में गजरा लगाया था।  कल कलाई पर कुछ क्यारियाँ,  एक कालीन हथेली पर  सजा कुछ तितलियों से और तर्जनी पर सूरज किरन; उसने चंदन इत्र उढ़ेल  आँचल पर गुलशन महकाया था।  उसने चंद्रमुख बेला पिरो लक्ष्य रस में डुबो कर,  कल एक पाँव में बाँध  और दूसरे में खरी चांदनी,  मनभावन मृग चाल से बीहड़ में सरगम खनकाया था।  ***

Fancy. Classy. Maiden. Angel. Princess. Dame.  These are not the words that describe me-  I am Free. Wild. Untamed.  I am rash, uncouth and dope;  Am a tiger with twenty-two horns.  I am sweat on farmer's axe;  I am clumsy - I make mistakes.  I am human - I have faults -   I err, and therefore, I am.  ***