What it is in the department,
The academia and the academies
And the people academic,
Followed by a dull and routinized affair,
Monotonous, dreary and dry?
Why not to drift far,
Deviate and digress differently
By being attuned to a world
Full of beauty, mystery and horror?
And it is too a reality that
The snakes can often be seen
Creeping into my house,
Staying a brief while
Or a few days more
And then moving out,
Poisonous and non-poisonous.
Metali, a deep brown-coloured non-poisonous snake
Which lives mainly in mud and waters,
Pan-dhora, a brown and striped water snake
May bite, but is non-poisonous
And what to say more about the poisonous ones,
They often visit my house.
Now I dream, is my love Icchadhari Nagin,
Willed, Human-face Taking She-cobra,
A Naga-kanya, a cobra-daughter,
Should I mark the fickleness of the eye lenses and balls
If she is,
Or should I go playing the wooden been instrument
In the forest deep
And the cobras as my audience
Surging to hear my music,
The been music,
The music of The east, of Asia, the Orient
Leaving the whisperings and conspiracies
Of the academia?
Is it the blessing of the Snake-god
Or of Ma Manasa
To see me as a snake charmer?