‘Won’t you protect me?’
I was so young and in pain then
All I knew about pain in that age
So I decided to be a Mohini
And dance softly and admire your beauty
And my heart kept asking,
‘Won’t you protect me?’

And so beautiful it was that perfect day
We lay on the bed and shared our dreams
Then he told me to freshen up
And while I did, he made tea
With lemon leaves from the tree
We sat at the doorstep
Watching the rain fall on the lemon tree
Eating bajjis and drinking lemon-tea
And were quiet. The future was so uncertain.
So we each said, ‘Won’t you protect me?’

It was raining that day too
On our picnic, he held my hand
And I kissed him for the first time.
I’d loved him for years
And yet that was the first time I kissed him.
We talked about how it would be
To make love to this haunting tune
Slowly, magically to someone you love
He smiled with joy and I thought of the past
And I remember praying,
‘Won’t you protect me?’

And still you trick
And still you make me ache
With bitter thoughts, and charred remains in my mouth
I can barely form the words anymore
How much longer will you play the same old tune?
Are you so far gone that you can’t protect me?
To whom else can I voice my sorrow?
They are all tired of my tears like I am.
And still I cry in the middle of the night,
I miss you. ‘Won’t you protect me?’


About Bhumika's Boudoir

I love to laugh, and end up being a part of high drama and stormy emotion even when I don't pursue it. Being creative, and communicating with people get me going. I enjoy all the good things in life especially those that are slightly risque, and apologise little, if ever, for all that I do. Literature is a passion and so is music.
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3 Responses to Nagumomo

  1. Sanjay says:

    A really nice love story it is indeed,
    However as it involved human and an angel, they were bound by deeds.

    Love doesn’t require security but rather emancipation.
    Maybe he was the one who needed from ur side some faith and consistent dedication.

    Maybe he didn’t lived up to you and thus did deserve your disdain,
    But dear please understand that in the end, expectations are the real cause of pain.


  2. Pingback: The Prayer Room | Bhumika's Boudoir

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