The Glass Sphere Poem by Yashodhara Ray Chaudhuri

The woman's hands seek pleasure in the lonely room.
There was a glass sphere on the table : she picks that up.
She feels something heavy, round, smooth,
It is so good. So satisfying.
She feels lonely. She feels hungry.
She has tried the mintbox or the pinholder before,
longish, plum
But how long can one stick to a shape?
The ultimate truth in not in a shape.
Then the real object could have worked.
The real does not work . So, in a lonely room, all day
The hand seeks the satisfying alternative.
At last one found the glass sphere. With spots
Of colours thrown around inside.
Inside, Oh so nice!
The woman tries again for the ultimate pleasure.

Translation: Yashodhara Ray Chaudhari