*THE WILL OF AMRITA PRITAM*
Fully conscious and in good health, I am writing today my will:
After my death
Ransack my room
Search each item
That is scattered
Unlocked
Everywhere in my house.
Donate my dreams
To all those women
Who between the confines of
The kitchen and the bedroom
Have lost their world
Have forgotten years ago
What it is to dream.
Scatter my laughter
Among the inmates of old-age homes
Whose children
Are lost
To the glittering cities of America.
There are some colours
Lying on my table
With them dye the sari of the girl
Whose border is edged
With the blood of her man
Who wrapped in the tricolor
Was laid to rest last evening.
Give my tears
To all the poets
Every drop
Will birth a poem
I promise.
Make sure you catch the youth
Of the country, everyone
And inject them
With my indignation
They will need it
Come the revolution.
My ecstasy
Belongs to
That Sufi
Who
Abandoning everything
Has set off in search of God.
Finally,
What’s left
My envy
My greed
My anger
My lies
My selfishness
These simply Cremate with me...
_*Amrita*_
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