Author Archives: anitadesai

About anitadesai

Anita Desai is an alumni of the University of Delhi. An administration and human resources professional, she was associated in the past with Embassy of Israel and with the UKaid's development programs in New Delhi. Currently based in Hyderabad, Anita is an emerging short story writer, poet, blogger. Her short story "The Domestic Maid' was featured on an online literary community 'New Asian Writing'. 'Epileptic', a short love story has been published by Nivasini Publishers in their 2015 anthology, 'Celebrating India - Love Without Borders'. She shares her opinions on social/political causes of human interest on 'saddahaq.com', a social journalism platform. Her Hindi poem 'Navnirman' has been shortlisted for publishing in 2017 in two anthologies, 'Ek Sahar Ummeed Ki' by Authorspress, New Delhi, and The Winter Anthology by Nivasini Publishers, Hyderabad.

The Help

 

On a morning jog
Commotion I saw.
Flashing beacons
Wailing sirens.
Soft, shrill and loud, their
Whispers howled.
None was allowed, though
All wanted a peep.
It was only
The help
Who gave up on life.
She was youthful, and
Driven to extreme, he said as
His iris twinkled.
Her womb was astir
Queen of the night she was
Odious, she smirked.

Yet again, a chord was snipped
Umbilical it wasn’t, as
Inert you lay.
In the stealth of night, their
Sins were absolved, as your
Remains they expelled.
Feasts for royalty
Satiated greed a many, while
Supine you remained.
Bereft were those eyes
For the salts had dried
Woebegone they are, their hearts
Devoid of grief.

I knew you not, how
I wish I had.
Beauteous you must’ve been
In the prime of youth.
Cherubic your desires
Shiny & sparkly, your dreams
That may’ve been.
Was the agony so deep, that
A noose you adorned
Where the pearls should’ve been?

The skies dangle, forlorn and
Abandoned, as
Its celestials descend, to
Illuminate your path, and
Trail your hearse.
Go my dear
To that world unknown
Where life abounds
And cherished you’ll be.
===

 

Footnote:-

(Tribute to a young girl, a house-keeper, driven to extreme).

Rains

Clouds thunder & showers

Dot my sky

Rains drizzle

Then halt, and ponder

Glabrous terra, Lakes athirst

Ebbing brooks

Yet the soil moist

Who concours our deluge?

They wonder

Behold!

A solitary mortal

Whose tears flood the plains

Praying hands

Beseeching eyes

And cries of atonement

Rent the air

It is him, and his like

That pillaged the terrene

Clouds thunder & showers

Dot my sky

& mull, To absolve, bless or

Let it suffer in dearth

Razed cliffs, beheaded stumps

A lull in buzz n chirps

Bleak contours of the sphere

Harden their will to abjure

Its thunder

No more a promise of lush

But

A cry of bereavement.