Praveen Kumar

He is a regal horse,
They wished, he drag their jatkabandi;
New to the job,
He refused to stoop,
He raised head high in regal portance
And neighed aloud in leonine arrogance.

They pulled his reins to tie to a cart,
The cart was low for his impossible height;
They knew not how to use this breed.
They knew no strains of a regal horse;
How to breed and ride a good horse,
How to rein in and win its wits,
They had no clues;
They groped in dark to figure his pride,
But found no light;
Different it is from the common breed,
But high or low,
They could not figure ever.

Birds of the same feather flock together,
They came in haste to stick together;
Birds of the same feather flock together,
But, could not figure how to handle the fare.

Kala was then the chief of them,
He had old passion for the young regal-horse;
How the tall horse would win bread and I've long
If laboured not a cart all its life.
Kala wailed aloud in large kind heart;
He wished, the regal-horse reduced its height
So he could tie a cart to its lowered back;
He wished, the regal-horse go dumb as an ass,
So none ever fear to mount its regal back;
He knew not how to help the regal horse,
So, he devised a cruel home-made craft;
He caught it in a trench and tied with ropes,
He bet with rods and made it run
Till fell the exhausted-horse with bleeding open wounds;
His heart too bled for the innocent dying horse
And tended gaping wounds with love and care
Till the horse gained strength and stood erect alive;
He began again the savage torture
To make the regal-horse, a cart-pulling ass;
He broke its legs,
Flogged skin and bathed in blood
For all the passion, he had for the horse,
To make the regal-horse a cart-pulling ass;
He allowed it not to die
Nor allowed the horse to live as a normal-horse
Till he languished to dropp and disappear somewhere.

Is it love or hate,
Is he a friend or foe,
Is it a grace or curse,
Know not he nor that horse.

The graceful horse licked blood,
Withstood the ordeals for good
With its broken legs
And rose as ever from strength to strength
Of its rare breed;
Taller it grew with each of its struggle,
Proved its breed and proved its blood,
It proved that rare timbre of a noble breed;
It showed subtle strains, unseen till then;
But never never stooped to jatka-breed,
Never assumed an ass' guise,
While bore the brunt with valour and resign
And stood upright
Like god itself.

Baser creatures do have several heads,
Each is a guise to meet weakness inside;
Baser creatures do have several heads
While a noble soul has one, held high skyward.