Veiled Rebecca/ Athira Unni/ Issue 03

Salar Jung Museum, Hyderabad, 2016 

rooted before a three-panelled mirror 

curtained and in harmony, you stand:

nubile breasts poke alabaster cloth 

frilled skirt—a compressed glamour— 

eyes half-open with a Madonna calm, 

leafy marble in Biblical resignation. 

your right hand clutches the veil 

tight to your chest. your left hand 

open, inviting. did you have a choice? 

Benzoni knew of frail first meetings. 

why else this vacillation in me, in you? 

this iffy haze? this heady temptation? 

I mouth your name – ‘Rebekah’ – 

a calm blink to the senses, verily 

a tree of a woman lost in reverie! 

I lost a lot in your city. with each sip 

of Irani chai, love beckoned & I— 

                              were you, in a hall of mirrors: 

we stand now                a preserve of desires 

let curious moustaches                arbitrate 

float to our shade                          debating. 

all the while, if true love is waiting, 

he waits for you to step off the pedestal 

and go to him empty-handed—

Source: Wikipedia

Athira Unni is a research scholar and poet. She lives in Leeds, U.K. with her husband and some books.