The treasure of love

Written by Nanda Nair A

In the following poem, Bhima and Draupathi take the form of kathakali and dance their way into events that will give them an insight to introspection.

The aerial flavor of Kalyanasougandhikam glided through air

The breeze hugging it tight, safe not to diffuse

The fragrance tricked her senses:

“Was it the earth transforming into paradise?”

The golden white Sougandhikam was in the right vicinity!

The lady, Panchali, complimented the divinity

Her husband, green faced, red head-gear,

White crescent shaped beard.

Softly moved to her proximity-

“Avenge, do I any?” rumbled Bheema,

The son of Vayu!

Bheema, the one who could roar,

The man who loved his wife-

More than the love of mountains for the clouds…

“Beloved, look at this!

Kalyanasougandhikam!

The flower of paradise,

The fragrance, strong enough to rattle the leaves!

A fragrance strong enough to pause the chirping birds!

The spirit has run through me, my beloved!

Enchanted your wife, the flower has!”

“Hug you tight, shall I?

For, in time, shall I bestow you with

A million Sougandhikam!”

Smiled Draupadi,

For she knows her wish has been granted!

The trees know well,

As his gait articulated:

Sougandhikam, here I come for my wife.

The paths not so rough,

Feet’s not first stride-

Happier than the stars when the moon’s there-

As for his wife, he shall gift her love-

A Love, the world has never set its sight on.

A garden of golden white!

The green on his face trembled.

The vigor gave way to quivers-

As a garden of flowers unfolded before his eyes,

Draupadi sailed in her dance.

Not for the tail of an old monkey!

The day would have been auspicious-

But now, the thick strong tail

Resembling a taut rope

Touched the nerves that shouldn’t have.

For now, Bheema is in rage-

The green, a darker shade-

Blending to be red, in time no one could tell!

The moisture in air thickened-

The rage in Bheema giving way to perspiration.

Nor can he jump over an old Vanara,

Nor does the Vanara know Bheema-

Sleepy, drowsy, drowned in a weariness-

Sweetly gifting himself-

The art of omnipresence-

Sprinkled upon by a pretentious ignorance

For he was the Hanuman himself.

“Bring your strength to use, Vayuputra-

Hold my tail over your head,

Bend not your neck-

Frown not your temples,

Walk on the soil where once my tail dwelled.”

The Great Bheema, suffocating in one’s own infuriation,

Availed the strength used not until now!

Oh! What a dismay was it!

Hanuman slept disguised as an old frail monkey,

While Bheema failed to lift his brown tinted tail!

The green cheeks, unaccustomed to tears of fear,

Twitched over the possible tears that might overflow out of

The Vayuputra’s mirror of soul.

The insight was scary-

“Lord! Lord Almighty?

Where have my powers hidden?

A veil that I shall never lift?

A shroud that's more terrifying than the unfulfillment of

My lady’s wishes?”

Draupadi, tired from her moves

Paused, waiting for her husband.

Her double sided hair locks,

Veiling her beautifully endowed breasts.

“O’ my brother!

Blinded aren’t you by dignity?

Testing you was I,

As your pride has consumed you-

More than what fire could do to a human!”

Fell to his feet, did he!

“Pardon me, great brother-

Pride, my weakness will be rectified,

Before the next array of fragrance reaches my wife.

Enlightened am I: rage and power never shall go hand in hand.”

“Forgiveness shall I present you,

My brother aren’t you: the great Vayuputra!

The garden is all yours,

A garland for your wife awaits you-

As you tread through the paradise-like,

Bow your head-

For the flowers are waiting to please your beloved.”

And there he went, to trade his pride for his love

Bend did he, before the white flowers-

The flowers that would prove his ethereal love

The embodiment of eternal love!

Draupati’s soft steps kissed the earth,

As her nostrils found the path to Kalyanasougandhikam.