When I received life’s breath
in a thriving garden I was born.
There was never a fear of death
for the roses had not one thorn.
In the image of my Creator was I
to have dominion over land and sky.
I’d consume all that met my eye.
Nothing was poison for me to die.
“This garden is your life.” Said He.
“And this tree has a fruit forbidden.”
The Gardener now smiled at me.
His knowledge to me was hidden.
“Eat it, anyway!” Said the Serpent.
“Why should anything be taboo?”
And I did not see reason to repent.
“He forbids to ensure that you do.”
I ate it anyway, for it was so sweet.
What’s eternity when I’m incomplete?
Why did the Chicken cross the road?
Was it the only trip he could afford?
Was he in denial of Universal Laws,
which forbid to cross without cause?
What if a black Cat crosses your path?
If you were smart, you’d do the math.
The Cat would then chase the Chicken.
You’d stop to watch, there and then!
You’d be so absorbed by this scene,
to forget you were on Street Thirteen!
Stepping back, you’d pass beneath a ladder,
and drop a mirror, to make you sadder.
Now, you’d turn back to see the Cat gone,
and the Chicken would’ve finally moved on!
A world so vibrant, hues galore;
anything intrigues the young.
A life of beauty, and splendour;
it matters not how it’s sung.
The little one sees a gigantic world
through eyes of endless wonder.
Tucked in his blanket, he’s curled,
whose peace naught shall hinder.
An innocent smile rests on his face,
as he wanders through sweet dreams.
A treasure you could never replace,
innocence is more than all it seems.
There is a glass half-empty
and an empty cup as well.
The first is but a pity
while the other rings a bell.
If I emptied my glass
when I approach the guild,
would I, as a seeker, pass,
or just keep it half-filled?
I’ve no excuse or apology
for my half-filled glass.
I don’t seek epiphany
save, ‘This too shall pass!’
Mímír’s Well has a drink
of endless wisdom, you see.
I’ll take one fill to the brink
if it takes an eye to be free.
Don’t beg in my neighborhood,
I’d rather you seek a job.
Begging is not something I would
because the economy it does rob.
Don’t beg on my street, my brother.
I don’t care for such vile deceit.
I care not about your false hunger.
Just get back on your strong feet!
Don’t just beg in front of me.
Take off those pointless shades.
I know that you can actually see.
But you watch as your youth fades.
Please ask me not for food.
I’d rather employ you today.
Begging is never that good.
Such men in history won’t stay.
Harbinger of change, who was sought,
Our country now shies away from changes brought.
The media is paid heavily to antogonize you.
The political and religious fear what is true.
We asked for change, expecting none.
We cry like injured dogs when work gets done.
You alone must hold up a volatile fort.
India wants its ship to stay at the port.
Ones who’ve seen not Godhra, are its experts.
Who mock Swachch Barath, once wore Kadhi shirts.
They pray in temples, but ignore god’s response.
But you don’t intend India to fade with chance.
You are conscious and oneness personified.
Freedom fighters perhaps never truly died.
I ask you to persevere, don’t let India return
to our political plunderers, lest we forever burn.
I perceive you not as a political man.
Just as a being who does what he truly can.
To where did they disappear?” Yudhisthira began wonder.
“Surely my brothers could not have committed a blunder.”
He searched and searched until he came by a lake.
He saw their bodies lying by the shore yet did not shake.
He bent before the lake, cupped his hands to take a drink
Then a Yaksha appeared before him, at the very brink.
“Drink not from this lake. Until you answer my questions.” He said.
“Your brothers refused to listen, which is why they’re now dead.”
Yudhisthira answered every question the Yakshaka did ask.
Thus the divine being granted him a boon for fulfilling this task.
“You may take one brother back with you.” The Yaksha said.
Yudhishtira claimed. “Then I resurrect Nakula back from the dead.”
“And Why so?” “Because he’s my dear step-brother.
It is only fair that there be a son for each mother.”
And lo! The Yaksha turned into Yamaraj.
“You are truly my avatar,” Said he. “Oh Dharmaraj!”
One brother was to be resurrected, but instead,
Every brother awoke, who had once dropped dead.
Yudhishtir or Dharmaraj was the embodiment of Yamaraj who is the Indian god of Death, Time and Justice
A Yaksha is a being of a certain divine species mentioned in the Indian Mythology.
This story is based on an event in the Indian epic called Mahabharata.