Deliverance

For R, S, V, and for P, beloved-est letter of all.

Remember R,
how we danced 

in the first rain of July Monsoon

beside the lone Gulmohur, 

that swayed to the melody of your copper anklets,

Conjuring a thunderstorm of vermilion,

like abir in Holi.

And as you spun in a web of dizzying rhythm,

I plucked a rainbow from the sky

and laid it in a pool

of July Monsoon

that had seeped into cupped palms

from the lone Gulmohur's leaves.

You shone like morning glory.

Remember S, the darkness

that hung above your eyes

when you strayed into my dreams, in

the witching-hours of those summer nights

of calabash water-pipes 

and cannabis. 

With bleeding lip and smouldering heart

you burnt a kiss

on my pulsating neck.

You reeked of magic...

Afterwards, I awoke

in the lingering fragrance

of bitter incense, wine-red blood,

relentless fury

and opium poppy.

Remember V, the petals at dusk,

I scooped them up

and blew them in your face, gently,

but they clung to your raven hair

still wet from the Ganga,

her maudlin waves waltzed away by the wind

as we gazed at her spangled blackness

one last time.

They bid us farewell.

I borrowed some stars from the night

in return for some kohl 

from your eyes,

and strung them into a garland for you.

You smiled,

but I wept.

Remember P, how I hated you

for your indifference,

and longed to be freed,

to plunge to Ganga's delivering depths, 

or drown in July's Monsoon,

to shred my veins with fatal steel

and drown,

in my anguished blood instead!

But weak and alone in all the world

I resigned myself 

to the whims of your companionship...

I look back and smile,

For now,

now that I have accepted you,

You have learnt to love me.