I was once young and beautiful
Until I turned a stone and hid my forehead
On the clumsy grass hallowed and brown
I stumbled and lost my form and face
I turned my speech into ashes and withheld my sighs.
How easy to hurt the woman who was cheated by gods?
Deceit and pride did anger invite
Such shame and loss is mine.
Aged with envy, and unmindful distrust
He crossed my legs and left me with a curse
Until the gods intervened
And I came back to life.
But was it the same husband that I aspired for
The same house with its cropped up mats
No I choose to be a stone than a mate
To a man whose eyes believed what he could not see
Yes I’d rather be a stone that leaves neither aches nor flutters.
I carry within a heaviness that has curled with the weight
Of their angry feet and elsewhere sticks like an old habit.
Without form without face and ashes for speech Hey Ram!
I am now quite uncomfortable with the knowledge
Of knowing a curse would soon fall on her who
Stands beside you in these troubled times.
Ref -Whispers In The wind