2/24

12

Both of their eyes were on me.
One in a checkered lungi in the front, the other in trousers at the back.
Thick thighs, curly hair, bulging eyes, darkest of skins; like apes I always heard them say.
It was the first time for all of us.
I raised my fingers to my lips, their chests heaved and froze.
Velvety warmness coated my tongue.
One in trousers questioningly waved a salt shaker.
I shook my head in delight and took another bite.
They both broke into the whitest of smiles.
One in checkered lungi turned back to steer his boat into the coconut groves.

 

One small stretch on my parent’s street had no houses then.
Thick thighs, curly hair, bulging eyes, darkest of skins; like apes I always heard them say.
There every so often came a scream from those bushes.
I was never allowed to walk home from school.

 

One in checkered lungi is singing softly in Malayalam.
I wonder what Bakshi was doing when he penned ye kashti vala…koi isse bhi, yaad aa raha hai.
One in the trousers who cooked the moru curry and fried fish for lunch, brings over some coffee.
This is the first time they’ve had a lone woman overnight on their boat.
Both of them still at some unease.
I let the unstable waters lull me to sleep on the open deck.

 

Yeah Bakshi, do lafzo ki hai…Ya hai mohabbat, ya hai jawaani.

 

whereisshyamni@gmail.com

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