Malavarathamma, the goddess of the hills

Eyes wide,
mouth opened in a touch of awe,
coaxing rice balls, fish and ghee,
I was told of the Tusker god at three,
of his paunch adorable,
appetite insatiable, intellect untrammeled
traveling on a mouse.

When I danced
Time swirled or stood still,
I was reminded
my anklets rang to
the cosmic chants of Shiva's destruction
and I danced to provoke,
the anklets digging into my flesh
to be released from your endless cycle of illusions,
yearning to be consumed
by His unforgiving third eye.

When I moved in a whirlpool uninhibited,
to my navel's erotic impulses
my torso swaying to your gentle breath,
swaying palm fronds, ocean kissing,receding,
complex sexuality
man-woman
lasya mohini.

When I faltered in love,
swooning to soft blows of air,
husky,
orgasmic touches of your dusky arms,
lips parted
enchanting flute,
you made me the tireless lover unsatiated
waiting eternally
unsatisfied with my worldly lovers.

But of you the Goddess of the Hills,

I never knew,

The one-breasted goddess of rebellion,

who lived in mountains undisturbed

one with the streams, the defiant wind,

and the dirty slush of paddy fields,

to you, I remained unacquainted.

Was it because you were dark like desire
your body smelling of
intoxicating earth wet
impelling snakes to mate,
that they refused to sing of you?


Weren't tales not told of magical proportions
because your nipple hard stared back,
unhesitant
with unbridled lust,
accusing fixed unwavering gaze,
and their hypocrisy, your prey?
Or was it because you were a woman?
unborn from a man's limbs,
his uncontrollable pelvic desires
or wasted incestuous sperms?

Why did it take me twenty years and four
to find you obscure,
unsought,
in convoluted hierarchies of the divine world,
Because you were alone,unafraid?
concubine to none?
drinking elixirs meant only for male lips,
uncircumscribed by any sanctum-sanctorums
of the holy circles
of erring trinity?
Was it because your touch burned
my ancestral mother,
that they call me an untouchable today?