Monsoon-Hued Body Poem by Anubhav Tulasi

The short winter days shrink
Smoke rises into the air and disappears
from the top of the bamboo groves
Obscene abuses and curses
thump against the bamboo stumps
At the time of the commotion
we go there to buy duck's eggs
We return after a word with our mates
When plantain rafts and heavy boats of tree-trunks
advance lightly along the rustling water
the lasses as unreluctant currents
inundate the shallows and depths as the virility of water.
Where plantain rafts and wooden boats
owned by a few among us, float
sink in the afternoon waves
I step into that precinct
where the oars can't move to
where the umbrellas - wicker-hats can by no means reach
Downcast in the bamboos' tip of tips
wallowing in the pools
of incessantly pouring clouds
the hue of my body
is monsoon