Nakusa

She stands there, silently, as the khols and taals begin to play. If money had afforded, they would have found the wrong chromosome. Pat silk Sitipati Bangles ornate heads fingers feet and she begins to sway. Maatsya, the fish, life begins. famished cries unheeded, A crumpled woman, abandoned child. Now she is the tortois lifting herself from the milky sap of oleander, castor oil. Bending, fingers spread, She gazes, smiling, sorrowful. fearful. Varaha- the boar. She pulls herself up fingers dancing, feet stamping. Narasimha She overcomes. She stands. She spins. Dowry. Her worth measured and found insufficient. Threats. Shame. A marriage worth a decade of work. She squats, Steps. Vaman, The dwarf. Her eyebrows lower. Her lips pout. Gazing off into some far distance, she runs, stops. Turns. Returns. She lifts her axe. Parashuram She sweeps her arms. She holds her head high. Her eyes twinkle and she is free. Shaking her finger, she sits and takes up her baby in her arms. Rama. She strikes the floor right to left bending stretching Head. Neck.upraised foot. A boy. Joy. Honor. Pride. She joins her hands and slides them down before her eyes. Before her heart. Lifting her finger she philosophies, teaches, trains. She lifts her child. He walks. He runs. She stirs. She waits. Her eyes shift from left to right. Looking up, she lifts her arms open inviting above her head. She rolls her neck and cradles her womb. A needle stick. A girl. Nakusa. She falls to the ground and she cries.