The Elephant In Musth Poem by Neethu Prasanna

As a blind beast it trumpets and trots, this is must!
It quakes the head deadly and the deity is stamped to the dust

The mahout, the one who showed the way and nurtured
Is hooked up by the tusk and his hopeful eyes are ruptured

It marches to the crowd as the bloody tusk breaches;
Cluster of blood pipes and pulps eject along the screeches;

Ceremonial lamps are tilted to canopies and the pyre
It uproots and projects a pole whose end blazes in fire;

It falls to her hands as she clasps it amazed
Lifting chador a little, at the burning end stays gazed

She is the next torch bearer if she knows it or not,
She will once break the taboos and burst out

On that day religion, family and world will fail
To fool her and hide her sight and self in a veil!