I took pride in being a
Bonsai Shrub, well nurtured,
In a costly pot, kept inside,
Sometimes out in the sun light,
To inhale and exhale, not to
Open the e yes and look around;
“Don’t, don’t, look, but don’t see,
Talk, but no sense, cry but not
So loud, smile, but don’t see,
Talk, but no sense, cry but not
So loud, smile, but don’t laugh.
Walk softly. Softly. You a girl,
Grow into a lady,” placed, insipid,
Empty, soulless. They pruned me
Here and there, to suit
Their whims and designs.
One extra nipped off,
One stem moved to sunlight,
Twisted sidewards, just enough
Food only; will grow big, No,
That’s not dainty, lady like.
Make bread and win bread,
Yet be soft spoken lady, and
A less charming human being too .
Raised questions, they all raised
Their penciled eyebrows, and
The gods their thundering voice,
Down, down you. The voice itself
Stunted me, even my nipples
Retracted to the rib cage,
Taaooed myself into a question
Into their conscience, but alas!
They are devoid of it.
“Be a good Christian”, “I will,
Not now, when am pretty
Well over seventy, now
Who wants to miss life?
If being good is, otherworldly
Life, not for me. Even after
Only because am afraid of hell-fire.”
They all looked aghast, oh!
Oh! Don’t, don’t, don’t
What to do? What to do?
They wailed. I echoed.
Burned my blasphemous words
And fed me on the ashes.
I grew into a prized Bonsai.
I dare not take a leap,
Pressed myself more into their
Designs. Lesser the doubts,
More the amusements.
I grew into a well shaped
Bonsai – They all took pride in me.
Ceremoniously handed me over to
A gallant gardener. He too started
His own pruning and shedding.
I writhed under the touch,
Came out unhurt, unbled,
The knife so sharp, yet. Only
A good Bonsai lives after ttie pruning.
He took pride in me. I too.
A grand feast of womanliness
Hosted by macho manliness.
“Satisfy the bunger of your
God, me, but not yours,
You don’t have any, be seductive
And keep me to you always,
Or sirens and temptresses will,
Take me off, poor me, I am
Over animated, you soothe me,
Give me only sons,
Pray for my life, be a sumangali,
Your life is through me, after me
You are burned alive in the
Routine life.” I received
The lessons. Nodded my tiny head.
He fondly patted me. The
Bonsai life gave me an
Illusory security, paraded it
Before the less fortunate.
“A well brought up Bonsai” He took pride in me. I too.
