Mahan Aatma: A poem by Neeti Parti

The Palash had shaken off the summer inertia and begun to paint the horizon with streaks of red
The fragrant and floral lawns of Birla House resounded with soft chants
The devotees waited with quiet patience for an experience sublime!
There was a ten-minute delay, then He appeared………
His frail form rested on the shoulders of his two disciples
Yet He was the strongest man the world had ever seen
His spectacled eyes mirrored a divine vision fulfilled
His toothless smile challenged the brilliance of the setting sun
A figure in Khaki parted the crowds and moved forward hands folded
A cloud-like a dark shadow passed overhead
One, Two, Three, Four
Hey Ram!!!!!!!
Ruby drops rained down awakening Creation from its state of tranquillity
And the Mother opened her arms to hold her beloved son
In a close embrace softly whispering a call to return to her fold
Earth to Earth!
A son who had risen to become a father to a nation newborn
Breathing his last had submitted himself for all eternity
Granting humanity the right to breathe
In complete Freedom!