Poem: The Chronicles of Raja and Rani
An Eternal Bond . . .
Once upon a time, there lived a Raja (The King) and a Rani (The Queen) in the Sheesh Mahal of Jaipur city, India.
They were deeply in love with each other and both of them paid equal reverence to each other. The people in the town called them as inseparable love-birds.
One day, Raja had a misconception that his beloved Rani has become oblivious of him, as she has not been back from her parental home after their marriage. So he soliloquizes in agony, expressing his innermost ache.
The Scene Begins . . .
Raja says to Rani:
Rani, the blood rushes and boils
Amidst the very core of my Soul,
As the ivory curtains flung open,
Revealing some crystal cracks and hole.
At night, the Kingdom of Love
Seeks for the moon and its Light,
But the blissful winds snivel,
Causing turbulence and fight.
Your parting has burned my shrine
In the most unfathomable way,
And I’ve forgotten the aroma
Of a perennial rose today.
Do you have anything to say?
Hail the King or Shakespeare? Aha!
Rani's Arrival . . .
After a few months, the charming Rani arrives on a chariot in the scorching heat of July. The doors of the Sheesh Mahal welcome her with bliss.
She sees Raja lying face-down on the floor, drunk, with a broken goblet.
"Rani, where were you?" asks Raja.
"Raja, my love, I am here," says Rani, embracing him affectionately.
She explains to her beloved that she was abducted by an evil King, Maharaja Krodhi, and a divine power helped her to escape from his detention.
She sings a loftiest verse that exemplifies her eternal devotion. Suddenly, Raja regains his strength and embraces her firmly, kissing her on the forehead.
Rani says to Raja:
Raja, in my Delight and sorrow,
It’s your Divine face that I see,
For it fosters the spirit of tranquility
As I lay beneath the luscious peepal tree.
Perhaps when the grapes ripen on the vine
They become a target to stones,
Yet the seeds remain firm in the soil,
For they are inseparable from its throne.
Love alters not with the ticking of clock,
Though the rosy-glow and silken attires dry,
But it bears out even to the lip of doom;
O' so reciprocal, that none can ever die.
~ Copyright © Surabhi Kaura 2016
Note: This is a complete fictional account.