The Ballad Of Serendipity

In the abject corner of a street

Amidst prudent hands and frantic feet

A renowned restaurant lies

And in the lurks of its obsolete walls,

An intimidated heart cries.

Coz there is no one to rely

And there is no one to defy.

Oh! Is this how solitude can mortify?

In the elusive wilderness of his own

He has learnt to cry

And he’s learnt to groan.

To endorse his plight he is too meek

To display elation he is too weak!

Adorned with dust and embellished with reek

His detestable demeanor is at its peak!

He does nothing, just lets his imagination soar,

And propels his soul to roar!

Day and night

He discerns men

Toil for fragments of paper

With numbers inscribed; which are multiples of ten?

He’s unable to perceive,

Why people deceive,

Each other for a paltry dollars and centimes!

He has no cue

If that really helps them

In their adverse times?

But now even the notions can’t persist

Because every cell in his body starts to insist

That it can’t endure

The inexorable lure

Of hunger and voracity

Which has exacerbated its capacity!

He needs food to survive

He needs food to revive!

He is impelled to be sudden and quick

Or else he’ll soon get sick!

Alas! He searches for a panacea

Like for water in a desert does,

A yearning acacia!

He runs and begs, he runs and begs

He runs and begs and darts

But nobody cares to give him food

Oh! Is the world devoid of hearts?

He gets no bread, he gets no crumbs

He tries again, but soon succumbs!

The stomach is rumbling

The teeth are fumbling.

The brain has gone on a halt

And the intestine bellows: It’s entirely your fault!

His steps curtail

He is coaxed to wail.

He lies on the sand and chastises his fate.

Darkness sets in

And hunger dissipates.

The nefarious aurora embarks again

This has always proffered him, perilous pain!

The life which prizes evil and squander-y

Has only given him trauma and quandary

With feeble might he tries to rise

And pursue the life of sobs and cries

He has no mother to cuddle,

He has no friends to huddle!

He has himself and his gloom,

He seeks no pain, he seeks the doom!

He returns to his dwell

With obliterated face and tangled hair

Well, does anybody care?

In wrinkled hands, he lays his face

And flips reminiscence of old days

When life was flawless, when life was kind,

When life was free, it was refined!

However, soon the cerebration did end

Life gave him a chance to amend!

A man with a charismatic countenance

With deeming eyes and effervescence

Asked him in an inquisitive tone

With deviance embodied and sown

Hey, what are you doing out here?

With wounds on face and tangled hair?

You look like a detestable child

Gone through a journey both hostile and mild?

“Exonerate me sir, but I have no cognizance of who thy be

Your identity to me is as obscure

As a barren island faraway in the sea!”

Oh, you’re quite a poet, aren’t you?

Your immaculate thoughts are as clear

As the morning

When sunlight percolates the dew.

Why don’t you come with me?

Don’t worry; it’s not a Sebastian task

If a question surges within, you may ask

They had soon arrived

And our protagonist was astounded

By an enigmatic beauty he was surrounded.

There were paintings everywhere

Some beckoned Gandhi, some Shakespeare

Some bore landscapes spectacular

And some had monuments vernacular

And some were wrought

By kindled fires and battles fought

Not the minutiae details had been left

Each picture was a testament

Of caliber impeccably deft

“You see, painting is my profession

And undoubtedly, it’s my obsession”.

“WHOA! They are so mesmerizing

Each one of them is truly enticing!”

“Hey, can we be friends?”

“I am a dexterous painter of pictures and you of words

Conspired together, we can carve unvisited worlds!”

The young lad briskly reverted

The fire of hunger was not yet averted

Sir, can I have something to eat?

Well, I don’t ask for a feast

I haven’t eaten since three days

The weather and me

Will soon be immersed in haze

‘Certainly!” saying, the good man rushed on his toes

And soon the world was bereft of woes

As the indigent boy got food to eat

He gulped down rice and he gulped down meat

And then he was ecstatic again

He sought no doom and he sought no pain!

Vesperdite came like in winter comes fog

The day masqueraded into the night

And they both slept like a log

The cricket synchronized melody of the vicinity

And the humans had swooned in sleep’s divinity.

However in a matter of time

It was the end of chime

The sun contravened the moon

And his millions of soldiers who would wield

A glittering and sparkling shield

Towards the sun the soldiers ran

Audacious, with clenched fists

The moon in front, ran with them

And there was no chance of trysts

The sun didn’t move, he did not sway

But still he drove them all away!

All the lustrous men were defeated

And the moon had again forfeited

The sun amassed his hegemony

To his power it was just another testimony.

The pivot of the solar system

Was adamant to show his rage

He summoned the morning to occupy the stage!

Percolating through the atmosphere went the first ray

And say what! It was the inception of the day!

Sleep was shattered and litharge eluded

The morning hustle bustle came

And the place was no more secluded.

From there on life would resound

It was jubilant and profound!

The furtive kid was no more; on the road

He now had a new abode!

For ten years encapsulating and mundane

To revere their passions they both were insane

The boy with the painter, had worked miracles

United, they had broken mankind’s shackles

The journey incredible, was full of fortitude

As a prolific poet; had become the destitute

And for the painter, he was adored

For paintings that mesmerized and floored.

The greater the benchmarks they would proclaim

The value of friendship remained the same

Eventually, the small abode had manifested;

Into a sumptuous bungalow

In which happiness was perpetually arrested.

The bungalow had soon evolved into a university

Which endorsed innovation and curiosity

It was a prodigious building

Adorned by plating and embellished by gilding

And more importantly, with amalgamations

Of indelible illustrations and poetry sensations

After forty years, they both withdrew

From their professions, as a freezing night does

As sunlight percolates the dew.

But here, the ‘boy’” (now a veteran) did not cease

For the instinct in him continued to tease

Him; as a quintessential task had still remained

Of apprising a many yet to be trained

So, in his university, he taught young faces

Faces, who had walked on his traces

The ones who had endured the perils - of poverty and adversity

The ones who had sustained hunger and voracity.

The ones, who, like him,

Wanted to defy their predicament

And exhibit to the world,

Adept talent as a testament.

And this is how the man of charisma

And affability

Transformed the life of a dejected boy and later many more;

Into a life full of splendor

And serendipity.