A Ballad of a Marauder – Harjeet singh (H.S Sidhu), Punjab

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Time was there lived a saint.
And was wont to deliver himself of practical preachings.
Direct was his attachment with God.
Oneness of inwardness and outwardness was the nub of his teachings.

Prompted by many for the selection of disciple.
But failed to renovate their littleness of mind.
They vied with one another for rung.
But his head didn’t nod for any find.

Several tame animals were under his canopy.
One night he was in deep wakeless sleep.
They were tied nearby his hut.
A marauder came there to peep.

Among them, featurely tall horse robbed his heart.
He untied the rope again and again.
But it tied to a piece of wood contrarily.
His gruelling efforts went in vain.

Stormily ,grubbed up the stump with saw-toothed sword.
But many pieces popped up unasked.
Ropes swelled in number than before.
But didn’t flinch till circumstances lasted.

Gruff marauder when set out on journey
Hadn’t learnt how to return with empty hands.
Always remained consistent in terrible situation.
Always preferred death on defeatable lands.

Myriad fiascoes but to avoid aspersion,
To maintain the dignity of erstwhile record
Clashed with invisible angelic power from
Midnight to daylight with effulgent sword.

As everything seen with third eye.
But being omniscient didn’t pay any attention.
After the wee hours, Saint came outside.
But surly marauder didn’t blench in tension.

Though already wise to reality, but asked
Who he was and for what purpose came.
Daringly described himself as a robber.
And told he came with substantial aim.

By Giving the graphic details of his malintent.
Adhibited, during the night session he did his best.
But failed to fulfill his mission as yet.
Never spent so much time on any other test.

Self sameness imprisoned the holy person famously.
Serious pleats changed into immense pleasure.
Hugging him tightly, gifted his preferent horse.
And said, preach the sermons of spiritual treasure.

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