At Khajuraho
I saw a man
A woman,
And cajoling
In relationship
Luscious and lustrous.

At Khajuraho
I saw the sculptures
And figurines
Decorating the walls
As stone carvings
And startling us
With their ancient presentations
Of man-woman relationship
Even on temple-walls,
Sexual or mundane?

Was it ancient Indian art
Or art is always so
By nature or in exhibition,
Was it a replication
Of the same primordial human instinct,
Lustful ever,
Even our dharma is touched
With lobha and papa
And bhoga,
Are we pure from within?

The other thing may be is this
That the construction work
Is a type of its own,
Generally women workers get exploited
And they cannot let it go,
It will happen naturally,
Manual labour, exhaustion
And the nature of work
Force them to do,
Leaving no scope for sanctity.

The work too is very tedious
To be dispensed with
As we see it
That those who make
The magnificent buildings
Sleep on the muddy floor
In India
And live a very poor and low life,
All those illiterate labourers.

Before going to visit them,
Should one divert the gaze,
Avert and avoid,
No, no, these are for erotic decoration
Giving peace to
Indian babajis and false tantrics,
Asking them
To control sex
Before going for worship
So religiously?

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Disclaimer: The image used herein is in the public domain and is taken from the Internet. Due appreciation and credit is acknowledged for the same.

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