The Witches’ Daughter, Doesn’t Lie

The Gods visited my abode one night,

As I was laying the table for my beloved,

With the warm supper that I had,

Prepared with the ingredients of love,

They said they could smell the aroma,

High in the skies, and came to my door,

To have that warm food on the table,

I asked them, “Why? Haven’t the goddesses,

Given you food tonight?” they all,

With a voice together replied,

“The goddesses have left the heavens,

 For their maternal homes located

In distant and remote places,

And now our stomach grumbles,

In famine. Would you dear woman,

Feed us tonight?” I stared at my lover’s,

Face, his eyes were beaming with kindness,

And his golden heart spilling the word,

‘Yes’, and so I served them in ceramic plates,

With steamed rice, the lentils curry, season’s,

Salad and curd, they were many and so,

Our table and chairs all got busy,

They ate to their fullness and left,

Merrily, I asked my lover then,

“Why didn’t you said ‘No’, you relish,

To eat like king, that boss chair belongs,

To you, you are my keeper and I,

Can’t see you lower to them,”

And with a grin he replied, “Ah my,

Dearest, I invited them for the supper,

Tonight as the gods were strolling here,

And there, asking which woman loves her,

Man the most, we want to eat food,

From her hands, and so I asked them to,

Come to our dwelling,” I blushed within,

Myself and served the left food on his,

Plate and in those moments my,

Bangles kept making the tinkling,

Echoes that got filled into the air,

Our stomachs were full with love,

Of ours’ for each other, but mustn’t

I tell you what happened afterwards

I was envied by the goddesses,

And one day few of them came to,

Learn the recipes that I cooked,

But it was difficult for them to learn,

With heavy jewelleries, nine yards,

Of silk and arms many, so I gave them few of,

My flowing attires, they all seemed,

Blissful as they left my dwelling,

But only my lover confused one,

Night thinking one of them to be me,

Rest I could say is history, now I,

Have asked the power headquarters sending,

Them an important epistle, “That kindly, even,

In the dire situations of heavy storm or thunder,

Don’t ever let the lamps of my street,

Go dim or out of light,”

They did hear to my plea,

As one of the officers who came to,

Check for why I have made such an insane,

Request ended up seeing a six,

Arms lady entering into my abode,

That waved at him with warm smile thinking,

Him to be one of our guests,

The poor fellow reported back with fear,

“Do as what the lady living at the far end says,

 She is the witches’ daughter, and she doesn’t lie”...

~Monalisa Joshi~