thoughts on a fallen 'paarijaatham ' flower.
i was wading through my vague thoughts
as i walked along the roadside--
i came to senses with a sudden start-
o god ! i was about to tread on a small flower
full of grace and simple beauty with a mild fragrance--
it is considered a holy flower;
it is 'paarijaatham' or ' pavazhamalli '
with one 'cm' orange stalk
and six perfectly merging white petals--
there always seems to be a swirl frozen on its petals
resembling the wheel-like weapon of gods--
memories of bygone years visit crowding me
whereupon we,brothers, rushed to gardens and groves
to gather these lovely flowers
with the greediest arms encircling in whirls
to corner these gems outwitting other valiant competitors
as they lay spread like mats on the ground
while rained in blossom-showers over our heads--
we also had gentlemen agreements among boys
not to invade the territories of others not so clearly marked out--
and to offer duty bound to our father
for his daily morning worship--
yes those were the cheerful days
as if on an expedition in the cool dawn hours
waiting impatiently for the 'keyman ' to unlock the premises--
why this flower blossom stealthily at night
with none to enjoy its fragrance and beauty?
why its life is so short-lived ?
why even the whisper of a gentle breeze knocks it down ?
o tree ! are you so heartless to disown your kids
like some soulless mothers of their illicit infants ?
or do the stars order that these star-children
also to depart at the invent of the dawn?
o tiny flower ! ever you kindle sweet memories
of our joyful association from ages past-
blessed i am,o charming friend,
i have ever my rebirth as a child at your sight !