Dedications To A Girl With The Glasses 2, Or The Night She Spoke Some Truthful Lies Poem by Souren Mondal

On a night of July in 2014,
Exasperated, devastated, demolished by the
agonies conferred upon a poet,
he called his love at eleven o'clock in the night.

'I love you', he said to the lady,
who had once thought to be in love with him.

'Oh, dear poet! ', said the Lady, said the
Girl with the glasses, 'I am not in love with you'.

What a mess it was for me,
a man who had stood up for her always,
always there on her call.
And I asked her if it were all a lie?

'No', quoth she, the girl with the glasees,
'Not a lie, I loved thee,
but that love was broken when a
monster came into my life,
and broke me into pieces'.

Oh! Shame,
Oh! Shame,
Why was I a mere poet, but not
a Knight at arms,
Chivalrous, full of Galantry, and brave and strong,
One,
who could have rescued his Princess
from the evil Rudra's castle,

Rudra,
He is supposed to be an avatar of Shiva,
A good man,
But how,
How see in this Kaliyug,
Nomenclatures are done so wrong!

That man ravished my would be bride,
My charming Princess with
Glasses on her eyes...

Evil!
Evil is the world,
And innocent she is,
Her much cherished womanhood is
hammered by the Evil Daemon,

Where art thou Good Natur'd God?
Where art thou when Princess Neena,
the damsel in distress, needs thee?
So cruel a heart thou hast,
So cruel a world thou hast created.

And my Princess said,
'I wish I could love thee poet, but dost thou
not knowest, girls like me are so incapable
of love...'

Oh!
Such tragedy,
Such tragedy of a beautiful lady being
chained unto the dark, filthy world of sins and sex.

What my dear Neena have you done
to suffer so much?

And I cried like a baby and listened to
her words,
full of sorrow, a voice shrill and soul piercing,
Touching the heart like feathers
and ripping it apart as if with an arrow!
Such pains,
Such agonies,
Of the girl who wears the glasses
Talks to me during the classes.

She opened up and spoke,
About how horrible and sadistic
her lover is
Forcing her to be in his castle,
Locking her up with chains,
Unfaithful,
Ungrateful,
vile, vile creature.

And I,
a mere poet, and not a Knight at Arms,
did cry at her sorrows.

But then I did shiver
when she said
'Do you know how it feels to
look into each others' eyes when we reach
the peak of the path of pleasure,
Trembling in each others' arms,
locked in the bonds of lovemaking
attaining so much pkeasure from the act! '

What contradiction!
What a logical falacy!
What can you, the Girl with the Glasses,
be forced, be ravish'd slave of a monster
and yet,
yet attain pleasure from thy ravishing?

What art thou?
An angel in the form of a harlot
Or,
A harlot in the form of an angel?

Is thy body still pure albeit ravished
(as thou say'st)
Or,
Is thy mind pure,

Maybe both your body and mind are corrupted.

Freaking witch!
Charming with an innocent smile that hides
the true intentions of your heart.
Thou plays't victim only to hurt preys
What charm dost thou have?
What power is bestowed upon thee queen
of lies and manipulations?

O, Neena,
My Girl with the Glasses,
Art thou no innocent victim as
thou claim thyself to be?
Art thou just a nymphomaniac
with a heart that have no mercy for
the poor bastards it enslaves?

What cruelty lies behind your feigned
innocence?
What truth lies behind your feigned
Lies?

Is the desire of the body enough for you?
Do you noy care about the calmness of the mind?
What, angel or harlot,
What is inside thy brain?
What do you want?

'Fie! Fie!
Shame be ever strong with you,
And a curse ever stronger
May you never find love,
May we never talk again...',
I thought.

But then the witch brought her own
magic potion
and charmèd me with her piwers,
Amd I did fall,
Once again into deep abyss of
her well-constructed lies,



Innocent is my girl with the glasses,
So pure and charming,
She has magic in her words
And I'll be
a slave to her for ever,
Her poet-lover,
One of her boy-toys
One that never got away...