I woke up at midnight, I couldn’t sleep
I coughed and coughed and breathed deep.
Insomnia? Tuberculosis? Whatever you call
It was a mental malaise before all.
A legacy or an irony of fate?
I had myself lost in the Lethe land
Failing to recognize my familiar look!
The Peacock Plume, long and delicate
Stood against the wall, sprouting from a pen-stand
Amidst the dust smelling pile of books.
I had bought it from an antique shop
Without a purpose. It looked grand
With the sapphire blue sparkling atop
And the flickering, emerald strands.
“It has a divine power!”- The shop man
Tried to lure. I held it gently
Between my fingers and my fate.
Since then, the Peacock Plume, higher than
The mountains and the peepal tree
Stood between two successive sunsets.
It glowed during my eclipse
With its innate radiance,
Its’ shadows loomed large
To have all the evils, purged.
I stared and stared, before I could dare
Ask what divine power it bore.
I couldn’t help feeling awe!
Unmoved, it kept swinging in the air -
O Krishna! My health and heart restored
Amidst the world’s wonted woes.