As the night arrives
I start stripping
Layer by Layer
While the city sleeps,
The mandir smells of,
Flowers, attar & soot-
Makes me nauseous.
First, I strip my weapons
Sword, trident, mace with other few
I have eight hands,
None of them for me.
Removing the flower garland next,
Smells nice but bugs bite me
I will keep one lotus for my hair
Now, this jewelry
Tangles with my hair
Gave me marks all around my neck
Bangles, then crown
I keep everything down
They pray to me for wealth,
Never knowing I would rather be them
The saree is pretty
But makes me itchy in summer
I would like a cotton one with polka dots.
I wash myself off next,
Dousing in vermilion
It seems like I am bleeding,
Bleeding away my Goddessness.
I dry myself under the fan
Braid my hair,
Put a lotus behind my ear
I wear a white saree,
My favorite color.
I put on nude lipstick,
And blue eyeshadow.
I see myself in the mirror,
This is so much better.
I walk out of the temple,
No one bats an eye
I don’t look or smell like a Goddess
One told me,
“Come at 7 AM, mandir is closed now”
I smile.
I would like to go to a café,
Window shopping maybe?
Eat something savory,
All devotees offer me sweets.
I stop a rickshaw,
To take me to a market nearby
He agrees at 100 rupees.
AUTHOR BIO
Jaysika Gupta is an author, editor, poet, and filmmaker who has completed her MA in English at the University of Delhi, India. Her professional expertise spans digital marketing to book editing. She lives in New Delhi, where she continues to explore the intersections of community advocacy and creative writing. When not writing, she is often found exploring the surrounding neighborhood which is her major inspiration.
