This time Soorpanaka
approached Site directly
seeking ltd eliminate
the primary obstacle.
Not io be outdone
the gentle Sita
looked her in the eye
and said, ‘Perhaps
you, can get me the
golden deer.’
Soorpanaka nodded.
Glad to have entered transactional
mode so easily.
‘Gold, silver or platinum,
Big Brother doles them out
twice annually.
Why don’t you apply?
‘I will,’ said Sita
with a delighted gurgle of
private laughter
which brought Ravan
hot footing to the location.
Anything for that laughter.
So mysterious. Had even Rama
ever plumbed its depths ?
‘Ask me anything
personal or professional
and I’ll give it to you.’
With a detached kind of repulsion
Sita watched
the haste of his gestures
and the fever of his eyes
and something inside her
melted,
‘What you can offer me
is not relative to him,
But can you see yourself
as your own absolute?
’I don’t think so,’ she concluded,
with a load of sadness.
‘He has become the norm
against which each of us
must define ourselves.
The avataric imperative.
But escape through the gender gap
and seek my own self-definition.
What is your safety valve?
Where is your emergency exit
to parachute into self-hood?
Find it.
State the essence of your self
and we’ll talk.’
All this she said in
silent murmurings of the heart
and downcast eyes,
and he looked on desperate
to get a foothold
land lightly
on her calm surface,
her surface calm.
’Why don’t you both step aside
and discuss this further’
said Soorpanaka, scenting a kill.
But Rama was past master of prevarication,
‘Oh, brother!’ he said and walked away,
dropping his arms in disgust
‘Oh, brother, ‘ with disarming charm,
sure the problem would be
taken care of.
And it was left to Lakshmana
to rouble shoot.
Tableau.
L, S, R, S frozen in postures of
Resistance, waiting, incomprehension.
Only Rama walking away
the air swinging with ease about him,
caressing and flowing through the folds of his garments
nestling in the angles and crevices
of his privileged form.
To animate the remaindered frame
and bleak free of the
petrification
that assailed his limbs.
Lakshmana raised his arm
and cut her nose,
to spite her face.
‘Aw’, said Surpanaka,
henceforth spelt with a U,
‘Aw’ she cried, a fire ringing in her ears.
Responsive, Lakshmana
raised his arms again and yet again,
two diagonal slashes that swept away her ears.
Mundan Jatam.
Block of wood, he cursed.
Urmila…..Uru…..
Please, may I hold your hand’
said Ravana.
the excesses of his heart
flooding the liminal limits
of his voice, his tone, his words.
And once again she was struck
by the incongruity.
the dislocation of form from content.
Turning, she saw the line and length
of leg, disappear and, she hesitated.
It was just a matter of initiation.
To grant from her heart what birth and ritual
denied this rough hewn raw material
in front of her.
Earth to rock, she said, I acknowledge you.
We are one.
You have become, while I am still molten.
With you I would erupt ,
while now I lie lambent, lissome, in-potentio.
There is leisure in this.
Must we rush?
With you I would erupt and waste.
He shifted restlessly,
sensitive to his own public image
in front of his sister and another man.
He and his sister were together in this.
A joint ignominy of race, creed, physiognomy,
nomenclature, physical proclivities.
Ignominy?
Why was he starting to think like them?
Polygamy was exhilarating!
And he felt angry at the young cur
with his hierarchy of centrifugal emotions.
Wife, mistress, paramour, muse, one night stand,
all preserved in discreet distances
from the centred self,
in receding concentrics ….
Surely that whole scheme went out with the Ark ?
Or with Ptolemy at least !
What was the centre?
Whose was the centre?
Who was whose centre ?
Ah !
So that is what she meant.
Essence of the self.
He smiled.
Happy to have cracked that puzzle.
He liked a woman who could challenge him.
Even mentally.
He nodded.
He stunted
and struck a fresh pose.
More self-contained.
Howzzat ?!
She laughed.
She couldn’t help it.
She laughed.
Another war would be fought later,
because a woman laughed.
At a man.
But this was still a time of innocence.
EI Paradiso.
And Ravana made an unlikely Satan.
He did not seduce with knowledge.
He wanted to know.
He sought knowledge,
of her.
The timing is all wrong, she said finally
breaking the impasse punctuated only
by Surpanaka moans ‘Aw, aw … aw ..’
Perhaps in another kalpa.
And I woutd strongly suggest that
you forget the abduction.
Don’t waste time.
Anyway no one understands
that Lanka is my exile
as the Dandy forests are Rama’s.
And that I had to be separate from him too,
to realise myself
which is why I was able to choose
Valmiki finally.
And that was a more fair exchange.
I could procreate
and he could create.
Both for the first time.
And that’s why I had twins.
To express myself as being
in perfect accord with him.
Third time lucky.
But now it’s my turn to create.
There’s an epic burning in my heart
and you have played no small role in stimulating it,
and for that I shall be grateful
and will duly acknowledge you.
May the same kundalini help you in your veena too,
that horizonlal, ever-extending art form that you pursue.
I ‘m going 3D.
The world’s never seen anyihtng like this,
whisper writes Saraswati daily on my tongue.
Yet it took your effusiveness,
your hotheaded, blustering, impetuous warmth
to rush me to this pass.
Thank you.
I must go now
Arnold Schwarzanegger
has some ideas on how men can procreate.
Do look him up.
And she dissembled into a heap of fine sand.
Freed from the deadlock,
at least partially relieved,
Ravana turned
and gathered his sister close.
Together they stood watching. Lakshmana
tracing and retracing his rekha,
setting the limits between hiinself
and the world.
Ravana kissed his sister on the lips.
‘We don’t need them’ he said.
’We don’t need no palefaces, diluting our stock.
My darling, bloodclot,’ he held her close. ‘ I know
just the man for you. Armenian or Rumanian stock,
I’m told … We’ll rewrite the history of our tribe, babe ….’
They left.
All was well
Once again
In Panchavati – El Paradiso.
Epic averted.
Epic re-routed.
