In the royal chamber
Eyeballs roll on surprise back.
There destiny slept to wake up
In red dawns, centuries back.
Cool it’s wooden roof under.
Artists carved all fair in fear,
Who will tell me their names?
Thought incense always smoldered;
Now fragrance is only in whims.
“White soul rides on midnight horse” -where?
Maids’ dressing room stood blushed,
So close to the royal chamber.
Though with marks of tension waves withdrawn,
Floor is like a serene shore there.
And moonstruck bed is pale and hushed.
Guards with swords always roamed,
Now visitors with cameras wander,
But the sands in courtyard are the same.
With a ticket, even a layman does enter;
Changed to change I floated.
(Marthandavarma was an old Indian king. His palace stands at
FABIYS M V