Maid of Faith


Every day at quarter past 11,
an impulse in me
starts expecting a door bell
to which she usually makes
an untimely not-so-peaceful entry
with a baggage full of sundries
and stories of neighborhood

Suddenly the house ruffles
with a disproportionate agility
of her ageing labour and emotive babble
and on days when she would give in
to immoderate empathy and gratitude,
she would take to laundry and cooking
along with the usual cleaning business;
bringing my muscles immense respite

There is a peculiar predicament of
images of godliness and un-godliness
rife in her expression:
the spiky evil looking worm
(Devil’s associate) in the wash
deems to be murdered
for it tried to kill the god,
And the long leftover food in fridge
must be served to the flying
god messenger crows;
after which follows a chain of
instructions-of doings and undoings
All of which confounds my beliefs into
disbeliefs and disbeliefs into beliefs
For her fear of god keeps
her off delinquencies
While her obedience to god keeps
her anticipation renewed
for a steady future

Whether her faith dooms her
or brings her fortune-
is incomprehensible to my faith
My faith only confronts with
her faith when-my leaving the city
makes her unemployed,
while I start another hunt of
an indispensable household need


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