The Tale of Bansuri

Celibacy is the life chosen for the blazing Bansuri;

Solitary is her shelter, yet she lives with luxury.

None can decipher her tune that prolongs.

She breathes music from the soul that longs;

Neither time nor space can confine

The pace and power of her eternal reign.

Her bruised toe on sunny sand dunes

That might be the reason for such sad tunes;

Hearts ached to her melodies,

Yet they are the best remedies

For the nights of solitude,

In the entire planet's latitude!

Bansuri is a scholarly stoic beauty:

Robed in a flowy frock in hues of misty;

With ebony, long and lustrous locks of curls

As light as a feather, she swirls and twirls;

With no wings to fly,

Yet the air hoists her up so high. 

Melancholy is her favorite genre;

Nevertheless, rhapsody does love to honour:

Her poise and flawless musings

With such free spirit, she sings:

From her, every bird takes its singing lessons,

So they never lose their individual essence. 

She is crowned in humility and honesty,

All have witnessed nothing but her modesty;

When the day dawns, she chirps along birds;

When the moon mourns, she weeps without words;

Elements take pride in proclaiming her intimacy --

She has no bias to show supremacy.

She is used by the widespread crowd of apathy,

And so she is on an eternal earning of empathy,

When she witnesses an empathic being,

She hardly resists her feeling;

It all overwhelms her from the core abyss,

Where her rationality finds it as amiss.

Although Bansuri wears out her breath

Day in and out, she finds no dearth;

As she has an unlimited source of artistry,

Fear of scarcity scares not her mastery;

Yet she gets trapped in the hands of Machiavellians,

Who uses her aura to shine from many pavilions.

Vengeance never suits her suit,

As peace is her constant pursuit;

Mistake her not for centuries-old values;

Forgiveness is limitless in her muse,

Take her abundance not for granted,

If so, find her no more even when chanted!

Queen of her own melodies gives in excess;

And never has a record of takers' success.

She sleeps at peace on the throne of Dharma,

And leaves all else with the Karma.

She is tender and timid at heart, 

Yet zesty feisty is her hidden part!

Bansuri's mellifluous magic enthralls the universe, 

The core of the score is always solo with no reverse; . 

Some watch, some cry, some laugh but none joins, 

No complain she makes, as her tune only she coins; 

The air just flows through her to make an art, 

As the life lives through her to take a part!