Satyawati -28 Poem by Unnikrishnan Sivasankara Menon
Satyawati -28
28. End of the Tunnel
Krishna, the Dwaipayana,
My first-born, came one day
I know not how he divined
My anguish, unending tears.
In the deep forest in penance
Without taking food or water
For many long years on a go
He was a horrible sight.
Not having taken a bath for ages
Hair grown dirty with sweat and dust
His offensive smell announced him
Well before he entered the palace.
In him I found the answer
To all my prayers: he is my son
As Prince Vichitravirya was,
His half-brother like Devabrata.
"Ye shall father Vichitravirya's sons"
I commanded the Dwaipayana.
Consented he, "but I need a year
For my ablutions, so the progeny is the best".
But, I had no patience
And sages are like wind
Know not where they go
And when shall they return.
"It is now or Never", I decided.
Beautifully written! .. Ever so heart touching! .. Thank you ever so much for sharing this! .. Ever so many 10S! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! +++++
Thank you Becca for all the goodness in you, reflected in your appreciation of this series.
Uh-oh. I sympathize with her Motherly and Grandmotherly and patriotic desires to have children fathered to the line... but oh dear, it usually doesn't end well when we try to force something to happen in our time rather than in others time. Now I am on pins and needles and I must tell you, dear friend, that is a most uncomfortable chair! 10++++++++++ on your superb storytelling skills now send me a cushion! ! !
Hi Susan, Thank you for following this series and favouring me with the encouraging words.
It was a great twist in the story.. Krishna to father vichitraviryas son.. Excellent
Hi Rini, The Krishna referred to here is NOT the Krishna we read of elsewhere. The person referred to here is Sage Veda Vyasa, son of Satyawati. As a mother you would understand that you would call your son by his first name, the name that you have given him, however high he grows. Here, the entire world knows him as Veda Vyaasa, but to Satyawati. He is Her little Krishna.
A moment of reunion poisoned by the coercion n the urgency of making a choice, It is now or never. The reader feels the dramatic effect of Now or Never. Don't we shiver when we encounter such moments?
Hi Nosheen, Quite right. We shiver when we face it vicariously. But think of Satyawati. She is already at her wits' end. Now there is a ray of hope, the last straw. She tries to cling to it..........
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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12/22/2025 5:18:58 PM # 1.0.0
The inscription on Krishna, the Dwaipayana, and on the feelings of his mother have been so touchingly and incisively delineated. Beautiful poem. Thanks for sharing.