On a bar, the tourist twists a dime
In Calcutta
It's closing time.
There's a fluttering sari
Dancing softly to the tongue of silent music
Making the stranger drinkers wary.
A drunken snake-whisperer
Stares at the thousand
Movements evoking the paths of a conjurer.
Hips swaying
Like the Babylon
Charms reminders of witches of Avalon.
She shows us all but her eyes
Averted windows
To rainbows in the skies.
Bedazzling waves
Of coffee silk and Imri
Are all our idle tourist ever craves.
Achmar, Ajwain, Bazil
Flavours of the East
Enslave his will.
Hare, Kesar, Nimbu
His synapses seek
Only to imbue.
Pyaz, Rai, Saji and Til
Cascading forth
From the window sill.
Alighting the streets
With flowers and fire
Fulfilling all madnesses filled with desire.
She dances softly
With her belt buclke ringing
The light from her jewellery stinging.
As they were all under her spell
The black curtain of fate fell
And she lifted her kaleidoscope eyes.
Madness, lies, Shiva
Aja, Jara, Savratapana
Blissful chaos settled, and the world turned to stone.
With her twisting irises
Long-lashed stars
The death of the world arises.
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