You should be on an islet.
Surrounded by a coral red sea.
With three blue coconut trees.
An ochre cave.
A copper cat and a silver dog.
Green rabbits in deep holes.
Yellow mice and indigo snakes.
A chromium lake of fresh water.
A dozen olive brown fruit laden trees.
A blood crescent in the sky.
No courts, no cameras,
No hooligans, no policemen.
No Governments, no states.
You are a gift.
Wrapped. Untouched.
In an islet.
A magnetic storm lashes.
A galactic lightning strikes.
A diluvial rain screams.
The islet dissolves
Sand by sand
In each rainstorm.
The sea sucks you in.
The whales ferry you to the deep sea bed.
Where a million iridescent flowers bloom
To welcome you and call out to you
“Hadiya!”
Ra Sh is a poet from Kerala.
Wales and sharks in the ocean bed
Shouting ‘ love jihad! Love jihad’
With reverberating sounds
Fill the waters and skies
Hadiya’s is not a case of Love Jihad, whatever that means. The word Love is not mentioned in the poem.