You robbed me cruelly

Rasa Ravi, 2022

You came when I didn’t expect it, disguised,
like a home-breaker through the cellar window.
You drugged me with Your violent presence
summoning all my will and senses in a row.

You chained my awestruck body with a mere look
disabling it from doing what it demanded.
You dethroned my lead, subdued me in one stroke,
I had no chance against the power You commanded.

You robbed me of my body, and now, O Goddess,
when You are gone, it doesn’t want me back.
It fights me implacably demanding You to rule,
and in hopeless despair it would try me to attack.

You came in by inhaling like a wild flood
that even to the biggest fortress finds its way.
You wanted to subdue me and conquer my blood,
so You exhaled me far away, usurping Your prey.

You robbed my heart of its treasure trove;
all the precious stones are inevitably missing.
What is remaining? What did You leave behind?
Only wilted tulips are left, deprived of kissing.

You emptied my secret chamber of all the gems
by mesmerizing me with a blink of Your eye.
I had no time even to count my heartbeats, and now
on rusty pieces of sadness I must live, and cry.

My heart is an abandoned lonely muscle
that hosts dismal longing and desperation.
You threw away my destiny and replaced it
with craze for You, with utmost veneration.

You robbed me of my freedom to wish and want.
I had many plans, dreams, not knowing where to start,
but now, You immured me in a dismal dungeon,
and my blood senselessly flows to Your heart.

You robbed me of all the expertise I’ve learned,
gone under Your pāda, Your holy foot,
lost in transliteration, beyond the letters.
I can’t breathe as these books are obstructing soot.

Among sages as numerous as grains of sand,
You gush as the fountain of all wisdom and order.
But after You’re gone only Fata Morgana remains;
drinking it, I taste sand, not bridging life’s border.

You robbed my mind of its whole world,
narrowed down its function and interest.
Now, it can’t think a thing but You, desolated,
with no extra space for mundane aims to rest.

You robbed me of my reason, memory, my intellect,
all the recollections and constructs I cared for.
But a hidden secret is intact, being revered.
You didn’t erase it causing me to suffer even more.

The gaze of You I remember as a vivid icon,
when You look not at me but within my soul,
and can’t find me because only You are present.
This amazement of Your bliss I cherish as the whole.

You approached me without any sign in advance,
like a lightning bolt from a sunny sky, a sudden emotion.
I am a somnambule seeking Your Moon-jewel,
sleepwalking on the roof of craving devotion.

I was not prepared for a relentless predator
who extracts all the nutrients from my home.
You avidly sucked out the inside of me.
You left only wrinkled skin and its broken dome.

You robbed me of my everything. You possess me now.
I am dead empty like a book without print and title.
You robbed me of the ‘me,’ my very self, O Goddess.
You robbed me cruelly, even of this recital.