On every night
he comes to you
and nothing could stop him
neither your sins
nor his virtues
He knows
that only you knows
how to control
his restless lips, hands, skin
and mind
How to ignite his emotions;
cold and abandoned
Though you are
made of the same blood, bones
tears and sweats:
as his
as rest of the universe,
Its you
only with you
pain synonyms pleasure
Sometimes you are like
a soft blinking star,
sometimes like
tender notes of a
wild guitar
You are the deep ocean
death couldn’t discover
For him
you are not just a woman
as you think of yourself,
you are a metaphor
So,
do not mistake his words
when in daylight
he called you a *****
It is not what he feels
It is his segregated anger
of repeated failures
to hold you
when you moves like
reeds in the river
He may not know
you are a feeling
not a lost body
and
tried to discover
But today
He gathered all his courage
and came to your doorsteps
in bright daylight
Let him take help of rituals, customs
or whatever he wants
But please,
give him soil of your land
And let him
replicate you
through his imaginations
Let him
praise you
admire you
Let him
love you
Let him
worship you
Let him
touch you with his heart
Let him
know his desires
Indian customs are sometimes strange. There is a belief (especially in North Kolkata) that goddess Durga's idol made during Durga Puja is incomplete without the soil from the house of a *** worker. The priest or the artist should beg for the soil and receive it from a *******’s hand as a blessing.
No one knows the exact reason. Some say this custom is to include people who are outcasts during an important festival, some says soil from the *******’s land is the purest because it beholds the virtue of those who visited the *******'s place.
May be Male dominated society of India created the custom to appreciate women’s body and all the women who knew what it means to have a woman’s body.