Roopmati's Song

In the midst of my melancholy night, 

When the crickets sing and the owls hoot in the distance, 

Standing on the pavilion in anticipation, 

I search for your face on the crescent moon.

The gentle breeze whispers 

Erupting my skin in goosebumps 

As though you touched my soul again. 

I shiver and wrap my quilt around my heart.

I feel you in the excited beat against my bosom, 

A tiny sparkle of a precious pearl drop on my cheek,

My eyes drawn in Kohl smudged, 

Yet a smile lingers on my lip 

As I sing for you the holiest lyrics 

Adjusting the strings of the Sitar 

To that of my heart, calling you home to me.

Did you remember me today 

When at dawn the cuckoo sang?

Or the waters of the Narmada 

Splashed across your tired face?

Did you whisper a prayer for me

In your Namaaz today?

Like I did for you before the Lord, 

Who plays the flute in the music of love, 

Just like we do?

Do you also wait for me? 

Counting every moment spent apart, 

Waiting to come back home, 

To the music we make, 

The love we create 

Words unspoken 

And a story perhaps unheard of?

There you are at war across the land, 

Protecting your flourishing kingdom; 

Here I am, Begum, to only your soul 

I possess not the vermilion in your name 

That they proudly behold. 

Yet I feel richer than them all, 

Who have a marital claim 

On your body than your heart. 

There you stay, perhaps lost in someone's arms 

Engulfed in an act of possession and pleasure; 

Here I wait to perform 

Sing and be heard, my only true desire.

~ Suranya