It is now, at the midnight hour
The glassy-eyed tiger
mounted on the wall
Turns its head to me
I rise and walk to the window
Relive the past roles.
Your strong voice
Fills the dense silence in the bedroom
Why did I choose this struggle, I wonder
To lose you …then again to live with you…?
Flashbacks turn into nostalgia
A few droplets roll down my cheeks.
Pity, I never learnt to compromise
What a waste of energy!
Ha! This day, I am the dead skin
Kept in the tiger’s custody…
Destiny it is, for sure ...sigh!
A shadow of regret rubs my spine
Let me confess,
The mute taxidermy tiger, you hunted and secured
still stares at me every night.
We both remain reticent in the staring contest
We both sit, watchful of each other,
We have become more tighter than we seem...
Oh, I am just learning what eyes are meant to see
-without the heart, but to the core
I have returned, my love, on the love-hedge
Multiplied by the stars and moon in my eyes
But, the nameless one dead for decades now,
is yet to seal the cracks
of the house we tore apart.
It is still not a part of me…
Taxidermy: Taxidermy was popular over a century ago in India, when royals hunted animals and showcased them as trophies. With the introduction of the Wildlife Protection Act and the ban on hunting, thankfully, taxidermy has been reduced to an art confined to a few museums.
To me, this is probably the sickest thing I've seen in few heritage homes. It's cruel and demented and is the exact reason I wish to help animals all over the world, to help them populate…
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