Her third eye was erased at birth
smudged away by blind sage
fingers intent
on keeping her locked
into position, fixed into being,
trapped into ways of seeing
that were blind and sore as the pimples
that later emerged – hormonal braille,
that later erupted – little bulbous blind
volcanos rounded scarlet like the throats
of exotic birds that trill and song
throats comic ballooning
for sex, for need, for want
signalling
blind desire to assimilate, recreate, procreate,
this is blind hope
this is a leap
thelma and louise
let’s keep going
let’s keep
let’s
later let’s
let’s. but the invited fingertips
can not feel
the tenderness of your skin
they can not feel
they are melanin blind
oblivious to the labour
they erase geology
and flatten
the topography of your body,
they disappear your present,
snag at the keratosis pilaris
that dot to dots across your body –
A cratered astronomical epidermis
the tight hair coiled raging,
trapped beneath
the same hair to be shorn, ripped
from the root to shape,
to smooth a route
to want, to desire, to need, I am woman
here me raw I am woman,
strip me down,
pour hot wax, epilate, tweeze and shave,
girlhood me,
make me easier to read.
take
away my bite.
make me less feral
less me make me less
here. I stand before you
nothing special nothing
to worry, nothing to harry, I am cancelled
teeth bared,
look –
I am not a threat,
let me in. let me pass
from the periphery
from the margins
from the shoormal
from the horizon
from the impasse
listen,
keep the chai and the yoga
the pyjamas, bathing and shampoo,
the aruvedics and the spices and the curry
I gift them, keep them, take them and
recognise me.
ears pinned back, ears prunkit, ears poised
tongue slavering, tongue gibberish, tongue raging
outstretched
any similarities with Kali are purely accidental
besides, I don’t have the arms to hold the weight
of your vison – and your reflection stuns me
I am barely here
Look:
I’m neither here
nor there
About this poem
This poem was chosen by Aoife Lyall as part of the Scottish Poetry Library’s ‘Champions’ project, a guest curatorship programme to help extend our national reach.
Lyall says, ‘Raman’s poem breathes into the weight of responsibility and expectation ‘vision’ lays at a woman’s feet: to be painfully delicate, perpetually self-aware, purposefully made less to be thought more. It is a call to action and a cry to freedom, a realignment of purpose and function, ideals and realities.’
Mundair says, ‘The proposed subject of vision made me instinctively narrow my eyes. I wanted to filter and notice the peripheral, the liminal and let that land in me. I wanted to consider the weight of the concept of vision and visioning and let it irritate a little and then let it settle. ‘Her Third Eye Was Erased at Birth’ is as playful as it is experimental and as equally poetic as it is political.’
