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Image for the poem Riotous Lancing of the Intense Tagetus Sanctums~   (an aromatized nostalgic journey zoomed in...)

Riotous Lancing of the Intense Tagetus Sanctums~   (an aromatized nostalgic journey zoomed in...)

  

 
 
 
 
is it the droplet heart~ leafy  'dhavanam's'  
in their bold wooden notes.. in an unexpected,  
a mixed fruity touch...    
 
 .. along with the dove~ white bouquet mikes  
of 'semmangi' ~  tuberoses in sweet mild  
 milken rosaceous honey tones..  
   
.. also with the bloodred spike heads in folded  
velvetty  bunches of the cockscomb 'kozhi kondai'
florets in their prarie raw greeny grassy tones  
   
these all three above... in a close-knit combo  
of pretty hand tied  garland strings of the busy  
4ish morning’s  Madurai’s temple flower street  
bazaars?..  
 
...in their picturesque unshrinking decorations  
as if an awakened fresh virgin fragrance... of this  
home’s pooja altar’s the sanctum sanctorum's  
deities...
 
 
 
that's in this riotous twilight’s mixed crises  
 
 
or (still guessing..)  
are they the densely packed hard, the flashy earthen  
musty Chrysanthemums...  
or must it be a punch of clove~ly Tulsi with a  
sweetsour dash of lemony balms..
 
 
 
all in a piercing guerrilla warfare...  over these  
sweetly flummoxing nostrils…in drowsy trancing  
submissions... to the deep long yogic inhalations
 
 
think,  I zeroed in to the exactness of an ever-lingering  
source from the undated frozen pages of a scribbled  
chaotic diary called life... its the intense Tagetus  
of the titillating senses... the marigolden aromatic blooms…  
in even more striking hues... in incrementalshades from a  
pale~ bright yellowsto the redsun flames.… their pigmented  
black tiny floret bases bundled inner each flower receptacle...    
 
as these tender childish fingers of a wildly curious innocence...    
spread out their each towering tangerine slender finger~ florets  
from their held bundle... to thinning singlet as if tiny sugarcanes,  
aloud in their divinely pleasant pungencies, better said no more  
of their so indescribable a hellishly~ heavenly mix...
 
 
 
 
a nostalgic force majeure time(less) journey zooms into….    
 
 
the conjoining holy aromatics of a marriage home..  
 
with the deep cranial awakening 'chandanam'~ the    
tranquilly ivory sandalwood pastes smoothly running    
in rectilinear fingerprints bits..  over the wooden doorways  
& altars..  
 
to the sublime camphoraceous 'aarthi' holy fire dristhi done  
to the bridal pair.. & thrown over the street to ashen those  
gazing steamy eyes in evil. along with redblood vermilion  
& leafy green betels with browny harddried arecanuts..  
 
to the organic hungers of banana leaflets served with the vegan  
rice~ sambar feast with 'payasams'  & crispy "appalams'...  
 
to the silken seducing jasmines of her love in the bonding  
righteousness.. & his coming together warrioring labour..  
earned by his majestic masculine virtues ... all in their life’s  
'one' amalgamating amphitheatre..  
 
 
 
ahh..that holy togertherness.. once that adorned in all its  
ritualistic celebrations .. this rustic one too..  
 
nowhere now..  
 
a solitaire nightshade belladonna.. to my own aching shadows  
templed within
 
 
 
 
as I climb the twilightic spiralling rusted stairways to the open  
terrace.. magnetic fragrance of the mystical 'Shenbagapoo', the  
Champak tree orchid...  & the mogra ahgarbatti ~ the Arabian  
Jasminum incense sticks of evening pooja diffuse through  
the nearby windows..  
 
& in the terrace, am left to all by myself .. beaten even more hard  
by the periodical sounds  of aggressive catfights .. & the dreary straw airs  
of the drying coconut leaflets.,, fully arted with the  multispiralling  rows  
of whitefly infestations on their folded down reverse sides..  abuzz as the  
random feathered cottony clouded bits    
 
& then there’s a depressingly dominant note of uncomfortingly sweltering  
silence  from the rainless corners of the stoic skies .. brewing worse as sandy  
dust storm airs..  
 
only the sudden rising voice of mosque’s Namaz amplifications instil a sense  
of a lilting hope.. in texts & hints of a Persian Mysticism.. in their Sufi’s trancing  
whirling dervish intonations..
 
 
 
 
I scribble these verses in dimlit haze now..  
& I breathe in my memory fingers over the  
generous nostril gateways.. into those ever  
fresh sprouting pages of my childhood alleys  
.. that same packed lunchbox in the open..  
the whitish soft creamy curd rice shines an  
indulgent slurry sensorial from these lickable  
tender fingers of a schoolgirl curious with  
twinkly eyes.. her mom’s handmade recipe  
with diced carrots to the capsicums to the  
spread red beady eyed pomegranate seeds…
 
 
 
“I love you Mom, love my lunchtime shared  
with my best mates ever..love the geography  
class later, the tutor who got the best out of me..  
somehow don’t like the history ‘hitlerist’ teacher,  
her ways of punishing me & my mate amidst  
classhour  in kneeldowns for no reasons.. though  
we are the constant  noisemakers to her tinted  
eyes  
.. & but love the Biology Mam too.. who found in  
these raring eyes a hunger & ease to do something  
worthwhile if not big.. & which this child did fulfil to  
all her unshaken faith in me.."
 
 
 
those acrid decades of corporate jobs,, in bitter  
noxious daturas & thorny Nerunji caltrops .. &  
those disillusioned years of the so~ marriage  
now lost into the unreturning blankness for good,  had  
much accentuated the search ever..  for the utmost truth  
of Love..  
 
..syncing the everest  vibes of an intense love    
    ..in the purely souling you Rob, in the flowing poetry  
of scribbling emotionalities , in the inner peace of Yogic  
asana~ dhyana ..in the butterflying eyes of my princess  
girls.. in the gracing bless of mom & dad .. in this each  
short life's warring to merging spacetimes each now  
..in the micromacrocosmic eternal 'one' soul continuum  
felt with~ within ev
 
 
 
...& of course  
in the simply divinely delicious white curdrice still
(unadulterated)...
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
#14 ERULGCT  
 
 
 
 
Written by summultima (uma)
Published
Author's Note
#14 ERULGCT. a longest blabberations till now perhaps.. but with the scents & accents of nostalgia.. this zooms in to the core of Love, that is the search & journey & destined destination ev.. you know. Robonoid. Love You & All DU xx

* some italicised words, are Tamil nomenclature
**pic: web, Tagetus (Marigold)
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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