Poems

I was saved, mother

I was saved, mother, I was saved 
The henna of your unripe blood has coloured every pore of my being
I was saved, mother, I was saved

Had my features formed, they too would have filled with blood
Had my eyes learnt to see they would have been rimmed with the surma of acid

I would have been bartered in satta-vatta or used up in kari
Every dream of mine would have remained unfulfilled

Had I gained a little in height, my father would have diminished in his
Had my veil slipped from my head just a little, my brother’s turban would have fallen 

Before I could hear your lullaby, I have gone to sleep my own sleep
I came from a strange land, I have gone away to a strange land

I was saved, mother, I was saved
The henna of your unripe blood has coloured every pore of my being
I was saved, mother

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