Truth: A Parable Poem by sreelekha premjit

Long ago the Indian soil
was graced by a saint and his disciple
who traversed long distances
of mind, knowledge and spaces.

Upon reaching the bank of a river
both hesitated thinking for an hour
perchance there came a beautiful maiden
who beesechingly turned to them and then

Said she, Holy masters wilt thou not be kind
to take me to the other side
look how this treacherous river
is swollen with pride, causing me to shiver

My family doth on the other side
with my poor child and his father reside
the young disciple of spirit chivalrous
nimbly hoisted the maiden to his shoulders

Carrying her safely to the shores
they resumed their journey; for hours
they walked discussing matters
of grave importance, not a cause for much cheers.

A few hours had thus passed
when the saintly sage turned
prodding the young man with his gaze
a taunting smile gracing his face

He said, did you not forget your vows to celibacy
when thus you held the maiden with such intimacy
the young disciple smilingly turned
reverend master, he said, surprised
Why dost thou still carry her in your mind
long after I'd dropped her behind?