The Sculptures Under The Moonlit Nights
Under the moonlit nights
See I the sculptures and figurines,
On the terracotta plates
Embossed upon the outer pillars
Of the terracotta temples,
Made from limestone powder and small bricks.
I see the figurines and sculptures in love and romance,
In devotion and prayer,
Symbolizing dharma-artha-kama-and-moksha syndrome
And also the masons and architects
Who made buit remained anonymous
And the purpose behind the art.
Sometimes they taking me to the semi-divine beings,
The aboriginal maids testing the sadhna of the sadhakas
Symbolically and mystically,
Sevadasis and devadasis turned stone
In the name of religion, faith and piety,
But God could not be,
The nautch girls, exhausted with dancing,
Desperately lying with the fallen ghungharoos.
Are they the replicas of the sevadasis and devadasis
Or the dark girls born with a darker fate
Or are they woman-labourers
Helping the masons and sculptors
To turn into the frescoes themselves
Which I do not understand, I do not understand?
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