deepundergroundpoetry.com

~a dialoguing duet of love... of him & her

� � � �

(an inspired lyrical from Maestro ilayaraja scored & voiced with the mesmerizing Janaki ..
� � a Love Duet Number.. of a naive rustic beauty & a Robinhood typa outlaw hero..
� � story inspired by true incidents �of the 1960s... from the 1981 film �
� � #MalaiyoorMambattoyaan
� � the song linked below)

https://youtu.be/alRD1Zvyl7M?feature=shared

this young girl�s infinitely flowing drape, her
saree.. is a golden magnolia.. a Champak
flowering garden� in a scented silken weave

drawing me unto her blooming heart� though
in a bittersweet conflict, I say her to find her way
away from me, leaving her deterministic love.. as
the chasing reality I am in the run� will repel her

she the simplistic rustic beauty as a golden
peacock in the coyly shying smiles� offers
her hands as an embracing heart... to draw
me unto them� as a liberation in love... throwing
away my worldly warring worries �& imprisoning
hesitations..

her singing heart & sculpted cheeks in a dimpling
motion... of a deep digging romanticism... follows
me ardently� with her flowing long golden woven
silken saree of a Champak flowering gardens

I am a wayward river already lost of its ways... I say
the maddening her in love... to not be in the instinctive
running behind me, who knows not where to go�

she calmly yet befittingly says me in metaphors... �as
when a springing new gushing riverine waters of her...
gushes natural in a fusional gravity flows� why talk
or question of the pathway� when she flows as a wild
wind in the blowing� where are the limiting boundaries
of any directions or nations�

I plead her to better latch her uncontrollably booming
heart of love... & not to give in to the playful games..
of her wholly drowning naivety heart of exuberance

I convince her... her lusting desire, this love� she
has for me� is not even wrong, but this me is like
a nestless Koel in the cuckooing, who doesn�t even
have a branch to rely upon�

"holy yellow threaded golden chain... for our sooner
wedding", �she says... she still carries it in a tied corner
of her flowing saree, her this golden Champak garden that
it is... hidden in the careful carrying this wedding chain, in
her unshakeable trust on me, on my~our love..

no offending her.. I say, but when there is no roof over this
on-the run, an outcast of a Robinhood me of the forests�
a wishful season of our garlanding, how can this be in any
reasoning... �not justified it is I say her again, if she is ever
in this wishful living with me, when I don�t even own a mat�

don�t be in a wasted whining calls� she declares to me
so strongly in love... says me to end my repetitive worrying...
undeniably she says, that she will come home to me, "pink
panneer roses of the holy intoxicating Damascus... I would
wear on her so sooner..."