Shweta Kumari: Figures of Thought: Collegiate Voices across Spaces

Draupadi

                                       

Hot blazes of fire,

Black clouds of smoke arose

Fiery blazes on sweaty morning

Phoenix like a bird she rose.

Princess of Panchaal, later-

Wife of the Pandavas, she was.

As the great Vyasa christened,

Panchaali she was called.

Proud as Indra, cursing like Durvasa,

Enduring as Sita, and pure as Parvati

Strong and bright she stood,

Enduring all the suffering and atrocity.

Craving for his love, but

Never her faith once quivered

Humiliated each other, when they met

But Karna did it more of all.

Pushed to the court of men

Some with downed heads

And others hungry eyes she met

Stripping her off fold by fold.

Pledge she took, cursing the crows

Never to tie her hair-

Till it bathed with blood of those.

Years of thorn and sweat-

Paced the war of revenge

Losing her father, brother 

And also her sons in the sway

She, till the end, made her way.

Fell off first, again for her love

In the final journey she took.

Dead soul but not her glory

Turned into ash, but all remembered her truly.

***

Ahalya

With the hands of the Supreme

Brahma created her himself

Most beautiful she seemed

As the world beheld her presence.

Jewel like diamond her eyes,

Her lips stole the colour of roses

Silvery hands and face she had

Like the moon in the dark of the night.

All the kings of supreme in kind

Even the Gods of heaven were in line

But The Creator gave her in marriage

To Gautam, the ascetic, to call her mine.

Happily devoted to each other

Drowned in love and faith Ahalya was.

Gautam admired her beauty

But fell in the trap of fate, as cause.

Indra, the King of gods

In desire to possess the most beautiful of all,

 Tried luring her to luxury

  But all his promises went in vain and fall.

Not ready to lose, in guise of Gautam

Indra went with her to bed

Furious on return the ascetic

Cried as a curse, turning her as dead.

Stony the rose stood straight till head

Even Gautam shed tears in his regret.

In his fury, Indra was also not spared

Thousand vulvas erupted as curse in all its pace.

In light of his mistake

As trickery and curse fell on his beloved

Promised her life again,

All she has to do is wait!

Then Rama came near the statue

And stepped his foot

With it the stone vanished, and

The beautiful Ahalya got breath again.

***

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Author's Bio:  Shweta Kumari was born and raised in a small city of Ranchi in a state situated in the lap of nature, Jharkhand. She likes to spend her time reading books, writing or dancing. She is a poet and a trained Bharatnatyam dancer though she left the training when she joined for her graduation. She is a graduate in English Literature from St. Xavier's College and is currently pursuing Masters from the same college. Through her poems she wants to try to help people bring out their pent up emotions and love themselves as they are while believing in their self.

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Setu, June 2021