23rd December 2004

She might perplex you,
for a moment,
amaze you the next,
turn you around to face something disgusting,
push you around,
blow smoke in your face,
offer ladoos,
she is around you,
dancing the Thandava at a frenetic pace,
blood pulsing, heart-beat racing,
lazing on a charpoy,
in the bundles at the Thasildar's,
BPOs at midnight, break-neck speeds,
traffic jams, information freeways between paddy fields,
droughts laced with floods, beedis with speed,
brown, tan, white, black,
red, pink, green, saffron, blue,
allah, shiva, buddha, guru, infant jesus
camels, dogs, bullock carts,
her sinewy muscle drawing a plough across a fertile land of more than a billion
the land of contrasts,
the land that is ours,
this is my India,
My mother.
My mother's mother.

[Inspired by "Don't ever loose faith in India..." Sri Ram Goburdhun]