Night Walk and other poems by Vidya Hariharan

They must have been beautiful
At one time in the past,
These women who sold love
At street corners, by the bucketful.
The gutter rat scurried out of range,
Of the red spittle flying
From the gawping mouth
Of the scurrilous paramour.
Taxis slowed to a crawl, canvas
The night spots, on the oval moon
Face of the glittering crowd,
Jockeying for the best position.
Upside down push carts
Rest against the pygmy walls
Of green-painted, garish caves,
With stunted trees for company.
Chains of fairy lights, dark patches
In the centre, call those passing by,
Rest a while here, enjoy, eat, drink,
Talk, share, lie down, they seem to say.
Furry-eyed men, lean and mean,
Pretend to turn away, rising smoke,
Hiding their expression, they watch,
The gullible are always fat.

Hearing your voice in my dreams,
I turn to snuggle close,
The missing warmth of your body,
Comforts me not at all.
I tremble in my sleep,
Feet pedalling to catch up,
With the just heard step,
On the stairwell ahead.
My eyelids flutter up and down,
Searching your form in my dream.
Waking up is a nightmare,
Dreams of you are my only solace.

Chop me into pieces,
Gut me like a chicken,
Assess my every move
With lust-filled eyes,
Lips plumped up
For the imagined kiss,
Lean into me
With your hand on my breast,
Stand between my thighs
With your breath on my neck,
Squint at the jiggle
My buttocks make
As I walk or run
For the bus or train
Running late to work
After childcare,
Call me names,
Wet my dress,
Place a mirror
Beneath my feet,
Sing Bollywood songs
Near my ear.

Then visit the temples
Seeking the blessings
Of every Goddess.
Not giving a thought
To the living spirit
Who walks in your midst
With sand in their shoes.