‘He’s My Slave’

The Politics of Intimacy

He’s the master. What can I say
when he says I’m better than the others?

I don’t even have to ask.
He takes whatever I say as a command.
Why should I brag?
My husband is under my thumb.

He’s the master.

Who am I to serve him, when he
takes joy in serving me?
How can I tell you the thousand ways
he’s with me?
He knows everything, just like god,
and he praises me.

He’s the master.

I’m always in his arms.
He’s always laughing with me.
He’s the god on the hill
and I’m Alamelumanga.
Do I have to make a statement?
He’s my slave.

He’s the master.

(Annamacharya: V Narayana Rao and David Shulman)

Strange Ecstasy and Joy Unique

Strange ecstasy and joy unique:
the son of Nand conjures a leela
to pleasure his beloved proud,
dons garments and adornments strange.
Here’s ecstasy and joy unique

He oscillates upon the swing,
studded with pearls and gems, the swing.
The Gopis through their half drawn veils,
unseen themselves, gaze at his face.
What ecstasy and joy unique

Body and limb in saffron paste
anointed; unmatched his attire —
an elephant-pearl drops down his nose,
to wet, impassioned lips;
What ecstasy and joy unique.

Garbed in yellow silk, with love
He wears a sari splashed with dark,
his ringing anklets dance away
to humour her he wears a bodice.
Strange is the ecstasy ofjoy

Red lacquered are her tender feet,
studded with gems the anklet-bands,
bracelet and bangle are of gold,
a black braid swaying down the back;
Strange ecstasy and joy unique

Floral garlands round the head,
the eyes lined with antimony
Narasaiya’s Swami, great to meet you
Who can pen your pure resplendence?
Strange is this joy and ecstasy.

(Narsinh Mehta: Keki Daruwalla and Meena Desai)

I have let my veil drop to my shoulders.
Bare-headed, I shall walk through the market.
In my hands the cymbals, on my shoulder the veena
Let who will try and stop me now.
Come wish me well, anoint my wrists with oil.
Jani says: I have become your whore, Keshava.
I have come now to wreck your home.

(Janabai: Jerry Pinto and Neela Bhagwat)

The elephant is huge
Can you say, ‘The driver’s hook is small?’
No Father, you cannot.
The mountain is huge
Can you say, ‘The lightning bolt is small?’
No Father, you cannot.
Darkness is immense
Can you say, ‘The lamp is small?’
No Father, you cannot.
Forgetfulness is immense
Can you say, ‘The heart
that remembers you is small?’
No Father, O Kudalasangamadeva,
You cannot.

(Basavanna: H. S. Shivaprakash)

A Woman to Her Reluctant Lover

Because I’m a good woman, I forgave you this time.
Would any other woman have let you off?

You follow me around like a servant,
you say humble things,
yet when I ask you to come home, you don’t.
Why do you hurt me like this?

Now I’ve got you all alone.
If I hold you prisoner in this house,
who is there to release you?

Because I’m a good woman

You hold my hands, you say nice things.
But when I ask you to get into bed,
you say, ‘I’ve taken a vow,’ and do nothing.

Now I’ve caught you.
If I tie you down to my bed,
who is there to release you?

Because I’m a good woman

Only for a bet in a game you enter my bedroom.
When I call you, ‘My handsome,
my Muvva Gopala!’ why this indifference, dear parrot
in the hand of the Love God?

If I choose to make love to you now,
Who is there to stop me?

Because I’m a good woman

(Kshetrayya: A. K. Ramanujan, V Narayana Rao and David Shulman)

Just calling a large thing small, Rahim,
does not diminish its size.
Krishna, who lifted the vast mount Govardhan
won’t take it amiss if called Murlidhar.

(Rahim: Mustansir Dalvi)