You come to me in the first quarter of night
You leap, you repeat; you reveal, you cocoon.
You sprawl across the Ni and glide on
Unsuspecting Pa Re wayward
As you slide into Ga.
You are blue like raag yaman.
I am red like raag yaman.
Red like stirring ardor, like relentless vikara,
Like flesh awash with rasa,
Wasteful, like Laal Ishq,
Red like death.
She is violet, she is yaman kalyan.
She journeys off Kalyan to Yaman,
From Kaan to Krishna, from azaan to shayan;
She hastens to nightfall.
Photo by Chris Lawton on Unsplash
