The Paradisal Earth
- Deep from the Soul -

K. Radhakumar *

He was born in the country
A beautiful and peaceful place,
A paradise on earth.
His house, a vibrant little house
Stood beside an unpolluted meadow
Inspite of vultures and crows picking at cattle's carcass.
A boy was seen horseback riding
Through a herd of buffalo
And the place was littered with cow dung.
Still, it was a lovely place;
Everybody had a great time.
There the lush green meadow
The range of surrounding hillocks
The infinite blue with white patches of cloud
All rolled into one, and created
A harmonious whole of living colours, sights and sounds.
O my motherland!
The faint smile of the place
Touched the corners of the sky
And it breathed clean air.
There he grew up
In the self-contained community
Far from the madding crowd.

First higher education, then employment opportunity
(He doesn't have much choice, really, does he?)
And then other factors
Took him to another place
Very different from his place of birth.
A place with all modern facilities!
Perhaps there was a lurking desire
For another paradise
An idealised version of his own life
In the little paradise on earth.

'How's everything with you?', I asked him.
'Fine, thank you. And you?', he replied.
He seemed to have everything -
Education, family, money
And he did roll with the punches.

He grew old...
He followed the twists and turns of the weary way
And outlived his wife by twenty years.
The sky grew dark and the rainy season set in.
He sat alone on the bench in the garden
Of the old age home
And watched the setting sun, and
Birds with homing instinct flying.
He was born a Hindu
But religion did not occupy his mind
And he did not believe in reincarnation.
Now at the ripe old age of 92
Death had become a reality
And had the looks and care of one
Long separated but not divorced.
He talked to himself aloud of late
And also murmured things beyond his reason:
If I were reborn as a man
I would prefer to be born in the country
A beautiful and peaceful place,
A lovely little paradise on earth.