Dedications To A Girl With The Glasses 5, Or, One Of The Best Nightmares She Ever Endowed Me With Poem by Souren Mondal

Once upon a time,
in a Fairytale-town called Aditiyaland
There lived a happy family,

There was a dark, clumsy poet
and his wife Neena, the Girl sith the
Glasses,
the most beautiful woman in the world,
And there was,
of course,
a tiny little baby girl,
their daughter of only four.

O, it was such a happy family,
where everyone loved each other
and there was peace.

But one day,
as the family were having breakfast,
pancakes anc Neena's favourite apples,
An evil daemon called Rudra
broke into the house with a weapon
in his hand


And threatened the beautiful family.

..............................................................


I was tied up with a rope,
alongside my little Princess,
my daughter.

and Rudra,
that evil, horrible Rudra,
went ahead and started to
call Neena names.

And my Neena,
my poor Girl with the Glasses,
did cry and begged
Rudra to stop his horrible
verbal abuse,

But the vile monster did not
stop, but called her a harlot!
My sweet Nightingale- my Neena- a harlot!

My daughter and I did
cry,
Tied up together,
We watched the daemon
ravish my bride and the mother
of my child.

'O Lord! ', I did say in my mind,
(for I had no more strength to utter
even a whisper) , 'why are you so
unjust?
Why do you allos such barbarism to
happen? '

But the monster was far from done
yet,
As he took out his leather belt
and began to whip my poor wife,

And in sheer agony she did scream
and pleaded to the monster
'Please do not hit me.
It hurts me so much! '.

But as I was mute,
the monster was deaf,

He listened not to the pleas of
my wife,
But went on with his assault

And I could hear our little
daughter scream,
in a voice that was so different
from the ones I've heard so many a
times

'Please leave mommy! ', she
begged,
'please... Please leave her'.

And I, helpless,
Felt a deep impotence,
a Death Adder palsy came over
me,
as I saw faint echoes of
my wife being ravish'd before
her own child's eye,

I felt tears running down my
cheeks,
And all of a sudden














I woke up in my bed,
A poor boy of only twenty-four,
Sweating,
Drenched in fear,

And then I remembered her words,
The ones she said on an eventful
night of June 2013,

And the others that she said
on another eventful night of
August 2015.

Both mere 'melodramatic over-reactions',
but good enough to maim a
lonely poet for life.


I thank thee Neena,
the Girl with the glasses,
You gifted me the best nightmare
that I could have ever dreamt
of.