Her man stole a neighbourhood girl,
And went Arunachal a long ago,
When Munni crawled in her
Belly, swollen to burst.
She lived at a hut,
And toil at day at lush green fields
Plucked tender leaves and buds,
And some dry wood way back.
At dead winter night when moon
Bathed the village, cold and grey,
She thumped and crooned
The baby coaxing inside.
Thus she passed her terrible days
Eyes swollen and breasts dry
And one night laboured she
And had her joy, Munni born.
(First published in anthology, Rise to Higher Essence)