3. SHAPTAMI
SUDEEP SEN
Morning’s afterglow.
I wake up alone —
my bed full of crushed shiuli,
its scent infusing my tea
with a taste I had not known before.
I sip the heat gently,
I inhale in slow-motion,
I imagine the dawn’s light to be brighter
than it actually is —
my lips, stained with memory.
It is only the seventh day.
She will bloom
in her full glory, tomorrow —
Ashtami’s climax, awaiting.
∘∘∘