Searching- A saga ✔

59- When I Placed the Peacock Feather

My eyes drift to that peacock feather,
Which now stood clasped within my fingers,
Its multitude of colours, sparkling,
In the golden hues of the afternoon sun.

I'd never expected that feather to drift down,
While cleaning that almirah of my granny's,
Instinctively, I'd needed it, to feel it, to hold it,
But my grandmother had taken it, and walked off.

While I stood atop that ladder, one hand inside,
The dirty shelf that I was supposed to clean,
My heart beat faster, and the desperation to hold it,
Increased, tears bloomed in my eyes, I looked away.

I knew my grandmother, wouldn't let me have it,
And knew that any argument would just make it worse,
So as usual, I zipped my lips shut, and cleaned,
Peacock feather: Him, Kanha, Krishna.....

After organising, I climb down, a rough ache, 
Growing in my back, and my heart squeezing,
At the sight of that solitary feather, on my gran's hands,
I look away, maybe, it wasn't in its destiny to be mine.

Just as I was about to enter the bedroom,
"Indeevara!", my grandmother calls me,
My heart hammering, I look at her; she approaches
And holds out that feather, smiling sweetly.

My heart stops as I look down to hide my tears,
"Go place this in the crown of Krishna idol, dear",
She whispers and I stop suddenly, my head light,
I take the feather, its weight light like my head,

And approach Him, tears threatening to overflow,
The idol is placed on a Jhula, all the colour of bronze,
I could almost see the casual way in which He lounged,
That playful smirk, and those eyes......And the Love....

I close my eyes, letting the tears slip down, 
So much...it was too much to take in, this love....
He was just, too generous, too good and too sweet,
To let me place on His crown, His peacock feather,

In what way I was worth this blessing, I didn't know,
It just felt too good to be true, like a dream.....
A smile blooms across my lips, widening to a grin,
So much happiness, such a bliss, so much Love....

I open my eyes and look at Him, the small figurine,
Yet what I saw was not this, something far more calling,
HIM: His Pitambar flying behind Him in a wind,
The flute clasped in His belt, casually.

His eyes, that shone with True Love, golden brown,
The sharp features and that bronze skin, black curls,
The red lips in a half pout, teasing, and a brow raised,
As if questioning, when I was going to place the feather,

I gasp, unable to believe and take a step backwards,
And close my eyes once more, Him, this was Him,
My Lord, my very breath, my eternal salvation,
I try to calm my heart, but it speeds up instead.

Words and thoughts fail me, time seems to stop,
In this flick in between times, only we remain,
Not Him, not me, Only us, lost in His eyes,
I don't know how long I stare at Him like that.

And the sad part is, He lets me stare all I want,
It is like drinking water after centuries of thirst,
But, then I remember, I am still inside Maya's jail,
And this vision won't last long enough.

Jarred back to reality by this realisation, I lift,
That peacock feather, and as if on cue, He bends,
Just a tad, with a slight tilt of His head, towards me,
Swallowing and my right hand shaking, I place it.

He smiles, this time fully, and I return it,
And the happiness I feel, incomprehensible,
Never, in a million Janmas, have I felt this bliss,
As while placing that feather on His crown,

Whilst a whisper of those glossy curls haunt my fingers,
A sob builds up, along with a choking feeling,
My eyes sting and my throat closes up as everything
Overwhelms me, and unable to bear the brunt, I shut my eyes.

When I open them once more, I stand alone,
The Jhula with the idol, swinging lightly in a wind,
The feather clasped behind the idol, gleaming,
I smile sadly, as I take in Maya's jail around me.

I look at the idol and whisper with a smile,
"Keep it safely, or..or else...you know,
I wouldn't pull your ear anyway," I sigh,
And turn back to walk out of the room.

And then I realise a few things at once,
He had made my grandmother take it,
Because otherwise, I'd have kept it in admiration,
And had made me clean the shelf, because only I'd be

Attracted to that feather, and would have pulled it
Out making it fall right into my grandma's hands,
And all this had been a mere game of His,
To make me place it on His crown, how lovely!

I'll never stop loving Him, nor His games,
He even makes this Jail feel like Vaikunth Dham,
This would be my most cherished memory,
And the happiest day in all of my lives put together.