An Elegy to Dopdi Mehjen

Adam's apple, you are a Fallen Fruit already. Isn't it lame if you forbid me then? Tag me Fallen Women. Picture me that. 

I refuse to be clothed until you dress me with your own hands, you Rapist! 

I would burn this time, I would fail the Agnipariksha. I would overstep the line and will not call it a mistake. 

My saree would not increase threefold. There is no miracle. I have always been naked. Picture me that.

You planted a seed in me and have forgotten to water it. There is no invention. No deus ex machina. No Ring. I would not bring it to you.

I told you, I would Burn and dare you purify me. I am impure. Picture me that.

There is no power of diamonds between my thighs, if you do not touch. 

I deny to be a myth. A chronicle. I deny to be a pedestal. 

Dark alleys, blue paints, glazed stars. Picture me that.