This one is for Saizal Gupta.
She wants to be a poem.
I set out at once to make her one.
I ride through the forest of blank verses.
I row the mighty river of sonnets.
I climb the hills of micro-poetry.
I cross the infamous twin bridges of duplet.
Finally I reach her temple.
There I start to inscript lines of her on the walls and pillars of it.
Soon the whole temple is covered with her words.
The devotees come with a sculptor of her.
They want to place it at the centre of the temple.
I say, “No.”
The devotees get astonish.
I pray and a huge lustrous rock comes out from the centre of the temple.
It stands there.
On the rock I write a poem and shout, “This is the world’s most beautiful poem and it is also her sculpture.”
A devotee ask, “How?”
I proclaim, “She is the poem!”
© Archit Sharma