Parattu Beevi’s Face
by

Her face is a pre-
independent Indian make.
Its pale white reminds
of the British rule.
Red rash on her cheek
seems a remnant
of old blood-shed
during the despotic rule.

Her orthodox society
had nipped her love-pimple,
but its hole remains.

A miniature portrait of
her parched paddy farm
in an old drought
gets visible in a mole
below her nose.

A stitch scar lies
on her eyebrow
like the carcass
of a worry-mouse.

There are wrinkles
as the tree rings
with imprints of life
on her face.

Now she looks at
the hypocrisy around
with a cauliflower-frown.
Today’s plastic life
doesn’t leave behind
any impression
on her visage.

First printed in my book, Kanoli Kaleidoscope(Punkswritepoems Press,US), reprinted in The Literary Hatchet(Pear Tree Press, US), and then in The Elephant Magazine(issue #3).

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