On the Eve of the Ratha Yatra

As the roads of man are closed, the gates of heaven do open,

And showers of blessings do rain, upon the parched hearts.

Alone a Brahmin walked the dusty roads, towards the holy fields,

Where people had gathered that auspicious day, to watch the holy scene.

Many a times had he trodden that path, may a times had he seen,

The dusty crack, the parched dry lands and the beggar under that tree.

Many a times had he passed that tree, with his nose high in the air,

To steer quite clear from his dreadful stench, to keep his shadows clear.

For he was a Brahmin of the highest caste, holy in all his air.

The Brahmin was late for the big event, for which had thousands gathered,

To witness the yatra of Lord Jagannath, on chariots drawn by men,

As the final moments dawned near, the Brahmin was still afar,

His heart and mind sank sad in thought, his eyes were filled with tears,

But as the wheels had turned that day, wonders did all happen.

The parched fields were parched no more, the hearts had all been softened,

Brahmin was dazed in eye and ear, as he felt his heart being loftened.

It was the same blue sky, the same dry road, but they sang a different song.

Songs of glee rang the air and sky, filling his ears with joy,

For his Lord was smiling under that tree, where sat the beggar boy.

He was a Brahmin of the highest caste, his air was indeed pure,

But had he searched his heart right though, was he indeed sure?

As the wheels had turned that day, joy had indeed come to him.

Blessed with light of new found soul, his mind was filled with peace.

With light of thousand suns in his eyes, he ran to the yonder tree,

He took the boy in his arms, and their hearts were filled with glee.

As the wheels of rathas turned that day, spring was in the air.

Amidst thousand chants of mortal men, his Lord had come down there.

Light of joy shot through sky and sea, enlightening the heart and soul,

The birds and flowers danced and sang, the fishes did swim in joy.

For the King of kings had come that day, to ride the chariots of men.

The Brahmins eyes poured tears of joy, as the wheels did turn that day.

He could not watch the rathas go, but there was enough recompense.

All the pride and darkness gone away, from the high held priest,

He held the boy close to his heart, basking in the light of bliss.

The preist wondered the reason why had he been blessed,

What good act had he done, why was he chosen above the rest?

As the wheels of rathas did turn that day, the sky rang loud and clear,

“the good and bad never were proportional, to one and the other,

For one can easily in all his might, outweigh the former with prayers”.

Thus as roads of man had closed that day, to let the chariots by,

The gates of heaven had opened indeed, to answer the Brahmin’s prayers.