The frozen wet damsel

You know how it feels?
A hot wet morning amidst thunderous applause.
And before my eyes the ravishing breasts of a damsel.
One moment she’s shy, innocent.
The next tempting, a coquette.
She plays with her brother,
Weeping with joy as the salt ravishes her.
The little nymphet, she waves her hands,
And wanders with sensuous steps;
She creeps over my heart,
Tramples, looks back, and goes away.
And I see the curious twisted lips,
The half-dry, half-wet mane
Disturbing her eyes,
The strong wind smacking...
She still plays, the camera clicks,
She says ‘Cheese’,
And the frame freezes.                               -31/5/2001, 1/6/2001,
Calcutta-63