Happy just as I am
Pleased playing flute upon a riverbank,
He hardly saw the king's man approaching,
E’en closer as he came to show his rank:
I’m here with a message, a note from king.
Among fortunate few ye shall soon be,
O sire, as our kingdom's preacher in prime
With honours from exalted royalty,
We've come to escort, let's be there in time.
The monk showed no emotions, nor did he
Stop playing with fish, nothing robbed his rhyme,
Musical notes flowed as ripples in sea,
And message was repeated one more time.
Still seated on the same small slab of stone,
The music getting over, he began
Feeding fish with care but to mothers known,
Then said, a suddenly woken-up man:
Look at that turtle in a shallow pit,
How happy he's in turbid world of mud!
Filled with joy, worried he seems not a bit,
Innocent, he looks to me like a bud.
He never tries to be what he is not,
Nor be one up with rivals, no false air.
Think of that royal one, the king has got
At court— poor soul, who for years has been there.
You know, the king shows off that mark of old.
Tell now this turtle to serve at the court,
Tempt, you’ll fit precious stones, gild him with gold,
Add, you’ll be a lifeless marvel at fort.
Tell me to what he’d be inclined to cling—
Get gilded or be all alive as he's,
He'd rather be his own sovereign king,
Carefree to roam, do what his heart pleases.
A turtle if knows as does every beast—
What's good for him, what's not, I know no less,
To plunge in State’s turbid waters the least,
And barter bliss for royal strife and stress.
Look at the banks of these happy waters,
Look at the trees swaying in pleasant breeze,
Look too at those fish-feasting sea otters,
As happy as every carefree life is.
The joys of gazing at them from this stone,
I doubt I'd ever get on royal chair.
As Lao Tzu's worthy disciple, known
He was in China for spiritual flair.
Maddened with might, power always poses right,
Is always keen to grab and more to have,
Power plunders to get more till goes to grave,
It goes on gaining girth as loses height.
Power's not an early dawn's purest of dew,
Ye shall have joy or power, God did once say,
The twain can't on a common axis sway,
Power tends to wipe every humane virtue.
Man's prone to pride atop a tall tower,
And more so if seated in Stately power,
Say thanks to king, I feel happy as I’m,
And know naught to deal with regal emblem.
_____________________________________________
Narrative | 02.07.2012 |
Copyright © Aniruddha Pathak | Year Posted 2024
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