Would you draw me with my sari coming undone?

The sleeves of my jacket a little torn?

Feet bleeding? Well, there's your auspicious footprint

The blade in their hands has nothing on my eyes

Dismembering the fabric of this world

That has dragged me by my hair and heart

Out of my clothes and skin, naked

Onto the stone where heads roll

Then let the heads roll

Let the tongues loll

Let them hang, strung together

On the heaving bosom of the raging Goddess.

My mother, do not weep

Do not let the world sleep

Do not let the anger seep

Away, into apathy's keep

I am the voice of an ancient woman

Burnt on pyres not of her own

Or what is left after

Along with bits of hair matted with blood

Would I be drawn soiled?

Am I the bruise that purpled,

From a suffering of centuries?

So old, so defining

So cold, so tiring.

Once upon a time, I used to paint

So all I can think of now

Is how will you draw me?

Every colour in the world

Lies bleeding with me on this pavement after all.