AtreyaSarma Uppaluri

Rookie (Hyderabad, AP, India)

The Doctor’s Heartbeat - Poem by AtreyaSarma Uppaluri

So, she is in love! In love fever!
Is the doctor herself the patient?
Why not, is a doctor not human?
Can’t she therefore be emotional?

Why not?
She bathes in a gamut of emotions
She is full of coy and clogged emotions
She agrees that most of them say so about her

More so…
When she is in the pink of her youth
And her heart and musings are couth
Can’t she smile on her boyfriend in ruth?

Is she too emotional to frequent the Muse?
Methinks her output isn’t more than meagre of late
If she is meagre here, she should be eager elsewhere…

But where? How to find out? ...
A serendipitous interception came to my aid…
A voice was talking to her, and it sounded sotto voce
Yet I was able to make out…as it clearly leaked out
She lent an ear…, then demanded
“Ok, tell me why you’ve fallen in love with me? ”

“The throbs of your heart, my dearie,
Transcribed and manifested
Did the magical and mesmerising trick.
You’re cherubic, you’re ever smiling
You’re kidding, you’re matey, and meaty too…
You’ve a golden heart and a stout soul
How I love you to be my soul mate! ”

“You’re posing as if you’ve seen me in person! ”
She snapped, a sense of disbelief lingering in her.

“Why not? I did, sirree, I did see you,
And I saw you in the flesh.
I paid an incognito visit to your place
And turned into your patient in a fake garb! ”

“No kidding! Don’t try to fool me, ”
She demurred, with a challenge,
“Tell me then how do I look like! ”

“If I go up and down all of your parts
You’ll blush. So I’d be brief, and suggestive.
Brown and glossy is your bobbed hair
Dangling down and kissing your plush shoulders.
Your eyebrows are sharp and arched over
Impish and naïve are your eyes wide and black
With the eyelashes ever jealous of their eyes.
Your nose aquiline with a stud on the left
Is a symbol of your drive and sangfroid…

“My diva, your cheeks creamy and balmy
Are a blend of pink rose and Himachal apple.
With their dimpled blushes of blossoms
When you loosen and open your saffron lips
Your pearly crescents up and down beam up
And my restless heart for you simply races up…

“Running down from your chin and generous neckline
Starboard, I’d like to plant a kiss on that beauty spot
That gateway to your bosomed bonanza.
Your cherubic face with its velvety head
Rests on a sappy, symmetric, splendid figure.
The lineaments of your countenance
As also the rest of your exuberance
A perfect well-proportioned geometry.

“I don’t know your age, but your looks show
You won’t be more than a score plus three...”

“What you said isn’t enough to confirm your version
Give out more. (Don’t I love more and more praise!)
You bloke, by the way, cut out that drivel of poetry! ”

“OK, my beloved princess! My Essence O’ Sweetness!
I see you’re an elegant harmony of beauty and brains
I know too, you’re a symphony of muse and music
With a copious pen, a sweet voice, keyboard and drum”

“Okey-doke, so you pass the prelims.
A few more questions:
What was your fever?
What did I prescribe?
Can you spell out, my swain? ”

“It was Chronic Juvenile Amouritis
You prescribed me a tonic called

Surprised, stunned, gladdened within her heart
She wished to ask more and more and more…
But his call seemed to have got dropped…
The access to the other end was in tact
To a sigh of relief of this spymaster.

“Hey folks, rush me to the hospital
I am aflame with a rare love fever
Cupid has so cutely struck me! ”

The doctor placed the stethoscope on her excited heart
Instead of lub-dub he heard mysterious tintinnabulations:
“Oh my prince charming! Oh my brave beau! Where’re you?
Hark, I do grant your wish. Hold my hand! Lead me to the altar!
I’m willing to step along through the blessed novel door
But tell me your real name, your place and other bio-data…”

Now on my clairvoyant screen I watch the spectacle:
A divine shower of golden petals was rained on her.

“No fee, young lady. This case to me is a rarest gem!
An awesome chance for research and a Nobel laurel”
The doctor discharged her with a bouquet of greetings.

“Mark my words, they won’t’ miss even an mm
You love your hero, and this I know
Rest assured, he’s earnest and honest
He’s an idealist as well as a realist
He’s a sensualist and a spiritualist
For you he’s prepared for any test
He’ll sail with you in any tempest
So I bless you: To both of you all the best! ”
Boomed so the voice of an Oracle! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !

[Dec 17,2009: : Lincoln, NE, USA

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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, December 22, 2009

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