HOLY IN VARANASI,VERMILION IN HER HANDS
by Mainak Bag

THE SEASON OF COLOUR WAS COMING AGAIN

THE STREETS, THE WALLS, OUR ...
TO FLOW IT AGAIN.

COME.

WE WILL PLAY WITH LOVE

AND DONE,

WE WILL WAIT

FOR THE SEASON OF COLOUR TO COME AGAIN.

I WILL...
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Poem Holy In Varanasi,Vermilion In Her Hands

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Poem Holy In Varanasi,Vermilion In Her Hands

  1. 1. HOLY IN VARANASI,VERMILION IN HER HANDS by Mainak Bag THE SEASON OF COLOUR WAS COMING AGAIN THE STREETS, THE WALLS, OUR HOUSES’ DOORS AND WINDOWS, THE EARTH OF MY GARDEN CLAD WITH COLOURS WOULD ALL BE. RED, GREEN, YELLOW, THE LITTLE PARTICLES OF COLOUR GOING UP, BEING THROWN UP, FLYING FLYING FLYING; THEN SITS ON MY FLOWERS’ PETALS. THE SEASON OF COLOUR MADE MY FLOWER RED RED IS BLOOD RED IS LOVE. DID YOU PAINT MY FLOWER WITH LOVE? WHY PAINT? WHY HIDE? RED GREEN YELLOW FLYING FLYINNG; THEN SITS ON HIS EYES TOO. SEASON OF COLOUR MADE MY LOVE RED. RED IS BLOOD. RED IS LIFE. THE ALLEYS, THE STEPS,THE SILENT GANGA, THE HOOKAH OF THE SAINT GLAD WITH COLOURS WOULD ALL BE. BUT COME O RAIN! COME LIKE OBLIVION. OR NO, NOT LIKE OBLIVION COME LIKE THE SPIRIT OF A PHOENIX, COME YOU DOWN LIKE TEARS OF THAT LAZARUS. BUT, SEASON OF COLOURS, WHAT DID YOU HOPE TO HIDE IN HIS EYES? THEY WERE ALREADY RED. NOW RED ON RED BUT DEEPEN THE DISBELIEF. I CALL THE RAIN NOT TO WASH. NO. NOT LIKE OBLIVION BUT TO SPLATTER THE DRIED THE DRIED BLOOD;
  2. 2. TO FLOW IT AGAIN. COME. WE WILL PLAY WITH LOVE AND DONE, WE WILL WAIT FOR THE SEASON OF COLOUR TO COME AGAIN. I WILL AWAIT YOU ALWAYS WITH MY HANDS RED. ( Composed after the 2005 bombblast in Benaras on the eve of HOLY. )

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