All of us have listened to stories of all kinds during childhood. Some of them managed to inculcate moral values in us and left a huge impact on us. Through this poem, I have tried to rejuvenate those days of storytelling. It talks about a king who, due to his arrogance and malevolence, lost the only thing dear to him.
It was an era of kings and queens
A time of coins in bronze, gold and silver
When the globe was just blue, brown and green
With spotted deer on the banks of every river.
I narrate the story of a king and his kingdom
The king being a miser as well as a dictator
With less prudence and lesser wisdom
He was a ruthless ruler.
The land was often barren
And the peasants were often starving
But the royal treasure was always laden
With pearls, jewels, necklaces and rings.
Seasons came and seasons went
But there was not even a hint
Of that wet, earthy, promising scent
That would give the dry patches a healthy tint.
The poorest of the poor apprehended-
" The Rain God is angry with us."
The average peasant retorted-
" It is just a temporary phase; Don't make a fuss!"
The rich zamindar affirmed-
" No worries, I have an everlasting stock."
And the brave soldier declared-
" Food or no food, I am as tough as a rock!"
The talks reached the king's ears
And as expected, he said-
" Let them starve! Who cares?
They are as good as dead!"
One fine day, little Ravi went running
With tears in his eyes, to the old physician
"My brother is very ill, he is whining.
Please come and see what can be done."
The physician examined the two year old
With experience and the instruments he had got
"Holy God! Lo and behold!
This boy here is plagued!" and left his body to rot.
One went down, others followed suit
The kingdom became the Land of the Dead
The plague became an epidemic, constantly spreading its roots
Devouring all in the family, from the child to the head.
But the king was unmoved by the catastrophic event
Became deaf to the loud wails of the folk
On his ego, he was hellbent
While the land and its people were broke.
Then a day came, when in his own palace
A shriek went thundering through the walls
For now it was his own daughter in the maze
Trapped by the Devil itself, above all.
Oh! What a pitiful sight it was!
And Oh! How the king shed tears!
And Oh! How he broke all his laws!
And Oh! How he cried- "Don't leave me, my dear!"
But the disease would not leave her
Even after the king offered his own soul
And the entire realm watched in despair
Its own downfall, with the plague taking toll.
She died, leaving behind a remorseful man
But her end taught him a lesson
That The Plague never belonged to another Clan
It was within him all the time, lurking there in the form of a Demon.
- Disha Wahi
