Wednesday, December 19, 2012


By the time I was ten years old
a number of moles have already made 
my body and my face,
their home.

I have one on the middle of my forehead
one on the corner of my right eye
one under my bottom lip
one on the left side of my chest
one on my finger and 
one on the surface of my sole

the very same one
found by my father
when I was just 3 months old

Oh how I dreamt of these moles
falling off me like leaves
on a hot sticky summer day

but from primary to high school
these moles have decided to stay

and oh,
if I was ever given the freedom to choose
I would have chosen sticks and stones
I would have let them break my bones

for that would have been better
than having those mean names
finding their way from Monday to Friday
just to hurt and haunt me

So gradually
I began to find comfort in the outskirts
of my imagination
You can call it "defense mechanism"

Like that first time
when I saw the beautiful Kuan Yin and Green Tara
I knew that just like them
my mole is a third eye endowed with divine power
and if I squinted my eyes hard enough
I could actually see glimpses of Nirvana 

Or that time
when I saw the giant statue of the sleeping Buddha
I wanted to be just like him 
so I closed my eyes, slept in the very same position

and I tried to accept all those sufferings at school
as just facets of Samsara
because this is the best way for me to cleanse my Karma
this is how I should embrace my Dharma

and sometimes

Sheena the Muslim would morph into Sheena the Hindu
and I would strut around thinking
"Here I am with my very own fabulous pottu,"
which is a marking only found 
on the forehead of feisty deities
it is a symbol of an Eastern civilisation
ancient and almighty

so I would watch those bullies and knew
that just like the mighty goddess Kali, I too
could dance all of them into annihilation

See me scatter them like dust
with my own rhythmic 
anger, fury and wrath

(but I wouldn't and I shouldn't)

for I am the Trimurti
I have the beginning, the middle 
and the ending inside of me

I am Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva
I am creator, preserver, destroyer

I am benign thus I am kind
and even if I could not speak Tamil
it's not like I did not give it a try

But that was a long time ago.
Now, who knows?

I might just remove these moles earlier than I plan to do so
and when the time comes for me to let them go
I will still write to each and every one of them
an epitaph for me to engrave 
on their imaginary tombstones

For this mole is indeed a third eye
allowing me to see you for who you are my dear

and this mole makes me see everything
with a child like wonder

and this mole reminds me to smile
and always speak good of others

and this mole marks the spot for me to move on
and forgive all of my errs

and this mole gives me poetry 
when normal speech just would not work

and this mole on the surface of my sole
has brought me to all the places
I have arrived and departed

and this soul under the surface of my moles
has brought me into the arms
of all those I have loved wholehearted

with all my body
with all my soul
and my considerable number

of moles.

2 poetic mutterings:

Ad Lee said...

Thank you so much for this epic piece. you have just made me re-count the moles on my body and made me appreciate them. LOL. I MISS YOU SHEENS !

lotsa love,
the male version of KALI :P

Sheena B said...

Haha. Awesome. I am glad that I got you counting your moles ;D HUGS back to you, dearest male version of Kali :D