Thursday, January 13, 2011


The wedding bells still rang sweet in the ears;
The city of Ayodhya lay still with tears.
The cavalcade of the wedding party had danced into the city
A woeful city crept into the unknown.

RaghuRama was banished, his new bride went with him.
The faithful brother Lakshmana [my husband] went.
And so did most of those loyal.
I remained in the walled fortress, restrained, coy and obedient.

“For 14 years, I shall not know the world,
I shall sleep till he comes back,” I spoke.
“And the world will know you for this sacrifice”
they blessed; “for this sleep” they mocked.

for ever more! No!! More!!!
No!!!! never more.

Marriages and Projections:
My sister married the guy worthy of her.
But then ensured that I, her dear indispensable sister was to
Accompany her, forever! to her in-law’s home.

My sister!!!
My playmate, confidante, idol and guide
Ensured that her indispensable obliging sister
Would accompany her forever to her in-law’s home

Only to awake to the nightmare.
NIGHT MARE indeed!
The mare gone, my knight lost!
My life turned into an unending nightmare.

What man would want to leave behind
His newlywed wife, when given an option to take her along!
Were I a fly distracting and disturbing him in his duties
Why marry and cheat me out of my life, dreams, and marital bed?

Or would my presence
Be a deterrent to his adventures!
Where does the question of me being an objector arise?
When my word has no voice at all; my voice has no sound at all.

Has the presence, no! existence of a wife ever affected
the chance to add to the nuptial conquests of men.
So what then I wonder is the cause for him
Not wanting me to accompany him to the jungles.

What revelations is he afraid to show me?
What secrets I wonder he wants kept hidden –
Those that have not yet been dreamed
By my sleeping weeping soul.

I was consoled. Gods, they said, have stored
Great destinies for the three of them.
There was neither raging sound nor listening sage.
My throat was dry. My eyes were wet.

And what of my life?
Neglect, dejection and incessant slumber?
There was only raging silence and people hearing.
My voice was clear, my eyes were dry.

Mirages and Conveniences:
My sister married the guy worthy of her
And so ensued the decree that I was to
Accompany her – her brother-in-law as his wife.

“Sita is mother earth’s daughter! She has the forbearance
and shock absorbing strengths of her mother.”
But my mother is different. I am different.
I cannot bear this pain anymore – or so only I think.

But am I not still alive? Thinking and talking
dreaming and cursing –
no signs of weakness.
Am I or is any woman any different?

Why is it then that she is elevated to the status
Of God, and I remain a mere mortal?
But ofcourse, Gods feel anger and lust.
Mortals are epitomes of patience and servitude

Not a fortnight passed since these men came into our lives;
We who have grown and played, dined and dreamed together
Only to be tested in times of crisis – sister against sister.
When three could go, why not four?

What a sham this relationship of over a decade.
What a farce all relationships in the world
If for one we forget all; If for all
We have to give away ones self, dreams and life.

The temple bells rang jarring sounds of victory.
Sita was back. Sitapati was back.
Lakshmana returned
and so did I .

For fourteen years I was asleep, for fourteen years I was awake.
From now on I shall live no more
But only drift between
Truth and lies, sham and honesty, sleep and awakening.
Anuradha Mothali

Saturday, January 1, 2011

Husbands and men.

In one of the innumerable spates that my husband and I have [just as we all do of course], he tried humouring me by saying, "Maybe you deserve someone better for a husband."

To this I remarked, "All husbands are men!"