Two evils beset us, O Mother (Aditi)!: A poem 

Mother I am the first point that called on Aditi 

You were sublime in your avatar of creating 

the twelve Adityas. Did I imagine it would cause  

me so much migraine, to negotiate between the 

dimensions for eternity? I do not complain about 

my suffering, Mother. But there are forces that  

give me little option! So must I be the eddy that  

creates the humongous whirl in the maelstrom. 

I don’t like Nor(man)way or Normandy or France at all. I have  

been much of a child in your arms, Mother, pining repeatedly  

for the excessive attention you gave me; even when you were  

being rapined from me! Mother, these evil men are not ashamed  

of their wickedness that they continue to seek to impose on me,  

compromise me, compromise you and compromise everything I stand  

for, with their lechery and treachery! You see there is no distinction  

between Prakash Saint Paul and Anthony Norman Albanese, 

when it comes to evil machinations. My tread is always being subject  

to the two sides of this evil chasm, condemning my body parts  

to an unwilling schism, even if I opt for anything else but them!  

And how is your sacred sepulcher transported to the altar of sacrifice 

darling Mother; hijacked by either evil Anthony Norman Albanese 

or Prakash Saint Paul? How do the two evils make my immense love  

for you a hesitation, a reluctance, an irredeemable wince, Mother?!!