Let me paint a picture for you,
Paint it real and paint it true.
Sketch it out from flesh and blood
Draw on the canvas- red soaked mud.
The tale of follies of the mankind
Of Good and Evil- all rewind.
Of War, politics and state affair,
Of men and women in despair.
Let me color it red, black and white
Color the gloom, terror and
frightful sights.
O Look how the ink fades,
For it fears its own shades.
I paint a lady who desired throne
for her womb
For which a warrior cast his own
doom.
I color him black- the blind man
born
His shades the kingdom mourned.
I color him pale- the desired king
Cursed to be deprived of love’s
swing.
Among them I paint a
princess-stolen, forsaken
Swore to take revenge;
Stood in a battle against the laws,
A fragile Eunuch became a death’s
cause.
Another Princess- I paint red,
For she encountered five wedding beds.
Staked, shared, won and lost,
Honor disrobed- her anguish tossed.
I paint a mother- silent and blind,
Love for hundreds absorbed her mind.
A stroke of white and pastel hues,
For a woman who feared the land’s
abuse;
Restrained- Regretted- abandoned a
son,
Did she fail or she won?
Painting this my fingers sore,
Still the canvas wishes for more
It sings to me- ‘You missed a slash,
A figure with flute-dark as ash’,
I paint him blue-gold and all colors
bright
The only savior- the only light.
The player who conspired- won and
lost,
On the dead canvas a divine crimson
glossed.
The tale is one of sorrows and
twist,
Of puppets locked on Fate’s wrist.
Many lives killed- many foul plays,
Men played war at blood-stained ways.
- A Guest Post By Apoorva Haritwal
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