Sacred was I once upon a time
Like a new born bud – an apt dish for the mighty Vishnu;
The faint fragrance of my petals spread far and wide
People and gods flocked to see me.
Like a virgin girl my shy countenance none could see
However, the aroma of mine spread far and wide
And with it came bees and wasps that stung me fiercely
To draw my nectar and loot my treasure.
They left me bare, drooped and torn
On the verge of tears, I pleaded with many
My silent tears made no impact on them
Until the day dawned and my sons and daughters
Saw that, like a withering tree, I was on the verge of doom.
A spark of life was still left in me
Which they wanted to rejuvenate
With ahimsa and boycott movements!
Though their intentions were noble,
Skeptical was I due to my experience-
And the treatment I met at the hands of cruel strangers
Who without the least consideration looted me.
The storm that ensued shook my very roots
And I stood trembling, without daring to Hope--
Hope for the Miracle that would liberate me.
My soul whispered a silent prayer to the Almighty.
My prayers were answered and so were the
efforts of my brave sons who lay their life for me.
Tears rolled down my cheeks to see my children
fight for me with their heart and soul.
My heart cooled and once again the desire to live
bloomed within me which like a phoenix
helped me to be born from my ashes.
Afresh I made a start and am now 61 years Young!

