"Emerged from the mire" ( English adaptation of Artist Subra's Tamil poems)

 

Petrichor

A pack of Bull's Mark Cigars, a Cheetah Fight matchbox peeking through the mud-stained turban.

A frayed, shredded four-foot dhoti.

He hastily consumed the porridge from a cracked pot, letting out a loud burp.

Next to him sat his niece, Marikozhundu, with an impeccable and inquisitive gaze.

The Pilgrimage

My pilgrimage ends in just a few yards.

The forenoon rain created a soft pitter-patter on the dried, fallen leaves.

The sun, hidden behind cumulonimbus clouds, splattered its rays.

The woodpecker's mellifluous melody made the cuckoos shy away, hiding in a crow's nest.

The monsoon rain dripped on the tree bark, stained with pollen.

Her passionate stare pierced my racing heart, knocking me to my knees.

Toppled and curled, I held her shoulders.

My pilgrimage continues...

Reprisal

Wasn't it my nonconsensual misconception that allowed you to wander through the vast territories and dive deep into the valleys of my brain?

Oh, my Lilith!

You invaded, penalized, and imprisoned me, forcing me to become a poet, doomed to portray your ravishing beauty metaphorically for eternity.

Dampness

An old grass-sewn mat lay on the ground.

A young woman lay listlessly on it, exposing her back.

I struggled to paint her curvaceous back in words.

Her pinna was perfectly contoured, with her wavy hair twirled over it.

The breezy wind revealed her bosoms and love handles.

I concluded she must be the masterpiece of Cupid.

I cautiously stepped closer to glimpse her face.

Jolted within, I saw an infant sucking her empty breast, screaming uncontrollably.

She lay with her legs crooked and her eyes swollen, tears rolling down to dampen the ground.

Moody Blues

The aromatic turmeric-yellow nuptial thread winked between her curvy breasts.

I lost my sense of time, comprehending the hillocks and valleys concealed beneath her shroud.

I uncovered the book of love, poring over every line.

Our eyes met, transcending us to the seventh heaven.

I gulped her celestial elixir and galloped off to battle on the bed.

Sacrifice

Set the Vedic fire and orchestrate a yagna, letting black smoke engulf the blue sky and vanquish the demons.

Let the yagna shower bliss and surge happiness throughout the country, shattering sadness.

Gather sticks from bodhi, banyan, and neem trees, splash surplus ghee, and ignite the holy fire to immolate me.

Evolution

I caringly caress the peach fuzz on my unblemished face.

I nostalgically recollect the pleasantness of spring, triggered by the quintessential sound of her glass bangles from the paddy field.

I get lost in the oblivion, mesmerized by my reflections in the mirror.

The euphony of the wind creates a harmonic melody, audible to my ears.

I devote myself to the amorous gaze of the goddess worshiped by pandits.

I fly with the murmuration of a flock of birds at dawn.

I decipher the meanings of obscure literary expressions.

I metamorphose and evolve, adapting to hunt honey inside a flower.

Anklet

"The remnant of the piscine smell propagated across the dried palm frond fence.

Sneaking in, without sniffing the waft of fishy odor,

My adolescence awaits the soft susurration of your anklet."

Katari

It was pitch dark when the clock struck eleven o'clock . Katari shook me disturbing my sleep and announced 

Be ready when rooster crows let go to puthaneri to see the bride to be.

Phantasmagoric dreams started flowing 

Paddy field , Banana plantation, Aqueduct, farm house  symmetically surrounded by  palm tree grove , Jack fruit's fleshy bulbs, cattle water trough, Charpoy, Buffalo,Banyan tree, Granny's finger millet

Teak wood pillars , Coconut palm, Jasmine and my niece Marikonzhundu ...

Haven't you started yet uncle .

The Zucchini Bud

The arousing aroma from the scarf, soaked in a cocktail of her body odor, permeated the pheromones in my nostrils while I dabbed the perspiration from my forehead. 

The sensual scent lingered through the night, until the frogs' trills and the layered jasmine that adorned the fence of Kilian's house gave a supercilious smile from her lustrous hair.

The frolicsome kid, plucking the zucchini flower, was smacked and lashed with prolific profanities by her father, who strayed like a slumdog. Unable to bear the brunt, she grumbled with her demanding lips, which deserved a passionate kiss as a bounty.

Losing Luster

Oh, my tribe, when are you going to arouse from your slumber?

The kittens have conquered your terracotta oven to establish their territory.

Are you awaiting a third hand to feed your empty stomach?

Care a toss for those apathetic electorates who committed suicide.

The fallen angels are decimating democracy; arise and liberate yourself!

The chronograph of freedom is losing its color; fading freedom hungers to enslave your independent country.

Diplomats, why are you drenched in the priming rain?

Use your scrolls as umbrellas!

There is a new battle to fight; be prepared for martyrdom.