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veeraiyah subbulakshmi

My name is Gabriel...

The two matching wings, stuck with feathers,
Tied to the back on the white long gown,
I was Gabriel, the messenger from the Father,
Stood in front of Mary, actually my class mate,

I with open arms and she didn’t look at me,
For the fear of smiling, in case if I winked at her,
I started in the loudest of my tonsil throat,
Hail Mary, full of grace and the lord is with thee,

For four consecutive years, I was the contracted angel,
The moment I walked on the stage,
My friends began to laugh and cheer up,
The same old message I repeated as the parrot,

Not knowing of the meaning and the consequences,
When I went to the Mother Superior,
To ask her how it was possible mother,
Mary had become pregnant without a husband,

As we are advised to be with the man,
In our arranged marriage to have the children,
The virgin ‘Mother’ was shocked, no more bespectacled,
And told me that was the secret and shouldn’t be questioned,

And you, Subbu, no more fit to be an angel,
And you are dismissed from the annual Christmas affair’,
I had become the chick that was drowned in the rain water,
Thinking and worrying for a few nights,

If Joseph sat beside the Virgin Mary,
They might be blessed with a child,
And they could collect it from the basket,
but The furious mother superior was puzzled,

And ordered the novice nuns to check my bags,
Whether I had brought any ‘informative books’,
From outside to the world of Jesus and his brides,
As I have seemed to have known the truth.

Submitted: Friday, December 27, 2013
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