Kalpani DambagollaIn realms obscure, ‘latrine cleaner’ she was named,
Love’s tender touch, a stranger’s hand, never claimed.
her essence distilled in allure’s potent brew,
A deity of desire, in eyes that only knew.
Oh, Thangamma, your tale unfolds,
beyond the verse of poets renowned,
muted whispers, stories untold,
in the depths of your soul, they’re found.
Pablo Neruda’s odes may fade,
yet your silent sorrows, they cascade,
unheard amidst the writer’s pen,
echoes of anguish, lost in the den.
Oh, Thangamma, in your unawareness,
of Pablo, the poet, and sailors’ Farewell
As fleeting as shadows in twilight’s soft glow,
the ‘kiss and go’, promises left to echo.
Eternity bears witness to your silent plea,
In the quiet chambers of your heart’s decree.
Note: Pablo Neruda, the Chilean poet, political figure, and Nobel laureate, found himself captivated by a beautiful Tamil woman of low caste who diligently cleaned his outdoor latrine each morning at dawn during his diplomatic service in Sri Lanka. This is a poem dedicated to her, whom Neruda never committed to verse.
