Written by Dr. Manjusha Hari


I’m sewing
I’m sewing the torn pieces of self.
The deserted paths,
The lost springs,
The drained sea beds,
The uprooted, verdurous shades…
The denied pleasures
of my Womanhood, rewrites me
as a shattered memoir…
And I’m sewing it, still!

The tangled equations of life
and destiny,
The maze of unanswered questions,
The dispelled peacefulness…
defining my days and nights.
Am I unreadable Hieroglyphics for you?
Am I?
The answers are preserving fate
for the embers of my pyre…

I know,
I’m living in the arms of vainness
and I will die,
in the lap of a wrong, fragile moment!