The Sculptures Under The Moonlit Nights

Under the moonlit nights See I the sculptures and figurines, On the terracotta plates Embossed upon the outer pillars Of the terracotta temples, Made from limestone powder and small bricks. I see the figurines and sculptures in love and romance, In devotion and prayer, Symbolizing dharma-artha-kama-and-moksha syndrome And also the masons and architects Who made buit remained anonymous And the purpose behind the art. Sometimes they taking me to the semi-divine beings, Yoga-yoginis, The aboriginal maids testing the sadhna of the sadhakas Symbolically and mystically, Sevadasis and devadasis turned stone In the name of religion, faith and piety, But God could not be, The nautch girls, exhausted with dancing, Desperately lying with the fallen ghungharoos. Are they the replicas of the sevadasis and devadasis Or the dark girls born with a darker fate Or are they woman-labourers Helping the masons and sculptors To turn into the frescoes themselves Which I do not understand, I do not understand?