Monday, June 9, 2014

Black and white

It is said that prem is so pure a thing
that it can stand no blemish.
Like the whitest of white cloth
is sullied by even the smallest spot of ink.

As one whose white clothes
are always speckled with
spots of tumeric soggy dahl
and grease from bicycle chains,
and splashed mud from India's open drains,

I think I should have been a Tantrik
dressed in black.

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