People said so much about her beauty
Scriptures talked of her charms
Great men were in the
Line up.
Dr. Jernail Singh Anand, a renowned poet and writer from Chandigarh, India, shares his poetry
Dr. Jernail Singh Anand, based in Chandigarh, is an Indian poet and scholar credited with 170 plus books of English literature, philosophy and spirituality. He won great Serbian Award Charter of Morava and his name adorns the Poets’ Rock in Serbia. He was honored with Seneca Award LAUDIS CHARTA by Academy of Arts & Philosophical Sciences, Bari, Italy 2024. He is Founder President of the International Academy of Ethics and conferred Doctor of Philosophy (Honoris Causa) by University of Engineering & Management, (UEM) Jaipur. Email anandjs55@yahoo.com
A FIERCE ENCOUNTER
People said so much about her beauty
Scriptures talked of her charms
Great men were in the
Line up
What a hype around her
I too was tempted
At last I decided
Marry her
On the bridal night she sat
Wrapped in red robes
Wearing jewelry
Looking down
She appeared to be so much
Down to earth
All inviting
Voiceless
We like such people, in fact, brides
Newspaper ads say
Should be docile
Shy
The immortalizing moment was
Inching close as I opened
A jewelry box as my
Wedding gift
I want your heart, give me your life
She said, throwing away her
Bridal dress, and showing
Her horrible face.
I was scared to see her distorted face
And tried to run away
Won’t you ask me
My name
People call me truth, and they worship me
In their stories and legends
But when they see me
Get scared like you
Won’t you own me, Poet? You loved me
Read your poems, here they are
I agreed to marry you
Believing your word.
The Poet turned, and returned to her
It was not he, but his spirit and
As he clasped her in his arms
Into tears, she broke.
***
SUITCASE
How happy I was
Bright in color and all agog
There is marriage and I will remain
Filled with clothes and other objects
Of beauty.
It was a marriageable suitcase.
On the day of marriage,
The suitcase was bubbling with joy.
Filled with clothes and jewelry
Dancing in this room
And then, that,
And finally resting in the in-laws house.
Every day, two or three times,
She comes and picks me up,
And opens,
And then places her clothe in me.
I can hear some talk
Which is not clear.
A man, who is the lady’s husband
Fights her over nothings,
She goes in,
Picks me up and fills me
With her necessary things
And lo, she is moving out.
The husband catches hold of me,
And forces me inside the house,
The lady clutched his hand
And forced him to leave me.
I was not sure, whether I was
To remain inside or move out.
One day, I found myself
Handled brutally by the husband
It was night,
I saw the lady lying silently.
And the husband was packing her
Body in me, and wheeled me away.
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