Ataraxia After Ailment Poem by Kuldipsinh Jadeja

Let me narrate an event,
Of ataraxia after ailment.
World was in slumber profound,
Solitude! Soul tormented found.

Oh, ney! None to hear and none to sooth,
Ney! Nowhere to escape from the dark booth.
Oh, ney! None to help and none to shelter,
I could neither display, nor I could bear.

In the fire of earthly concerns,
The soul was burning.
Like gas that gets inflamed easily,
Burning brightly itself, and others too, rapidly.

Flames were coming out swaggering,
With a rhythm queer quivering,
Followed by the smoke dark and gray,
As if coming out from Ilium's topless towers,
Leaving dark spots on mind and heart.

The heart became furnace,
And veins all the fuel pipes.
No extinguisher, no way-out, no hope found,
Only burner, burning and burnt.




Burnt was the realm almost,
And everything was lost.
Ash, lying in each corner,
Still fierce fire fluttering from,
Briskly burner burning brightly.

Alas! At last,
Sins all got rewarded, all deeds too.
The fire started cooling furnace,
Soothing the soul,
Becoming itself sacrificial ladle.

Combustion got oxygen ample.
No smoke, no pain,
No kind of ailment.

Just faith and pious state,
Steady breaths,
Heart kind and cool mind,
Closed eyes found bright light.

Soul light and body too,
Floating freely in the air.
Nothing to gain,
Nothing to lose,
Nothing to win,
No fear to be won.

For HE accepted the soul purified,
Attained the soul it's eternal pride.