Peacock

A stretch of blue.

The fan opens, colours pop out, gliding and moving

to bewitch the beholder

Soft melting greens slowly rise.

The spectacular dance begins, the world stands in wonder

A poet writes his song.

Another aims to rob the colours of the jungle

To run away to rear the peacock, caged.

Eager to own this magnificence

Thinks, the affluent buyer should pay well.

Says to the peacock, ‘Give your beauty only to me’.

The devoted hero muses, ‘Is this my beloved coming closer?

Or is this the graceful peacock from Sabari Mountain?

Whose beauty torments my mind and body?

‘In its magical form the peacock mesmerises me’

He heaves a long sigh.

A huntsman enters the grove. Speculates.

Severed legs burnt on the fire will bring oil, dripping.

Vivid plumage that tantalises in the evening sun, if cut

Will bring easy money from devotee

Who offers milk and fruit at the altar.

He calculates the value of his target.

If flawless beauty brings us pure joy

If vibrant youth kindles love within us

Why destroy innocent beauty

For the sake of shameful wealth?

O shouldn’t we regret and surrender unto Lord Kanthan?