Parabels of Mahavir

Author(s): Harindranath Chattopadhyaya
Publisher: Shri Kiran Publishers

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The princess, lambent as a precious pearl, Rode on the camel's back, with naught to say: The camel-driver's brain was in a whirl; He muttered: "I will sell this lovely girl To some rich merchant who may come my way." The camel journeyed league on yawning league, Without thə slightest feeling of fatigue. The princess, with deep anguish overcome, Sat on its back, an image strange and dumb, As in a vacuum, unmoved, unstirred, Listless and far-away, without a word. The day dawned with a sense of aftermath Following a night of orgiac revelry In the mind's hell, old hall of devilry. The driver all along the journey sat Listening to his own heart go pit-a-pat. As though thrice hideous demons danced within it Intensifying torture every minute. He heard wild voices mock throughtout the night: "Rascal ! it serves you right, it serves you right!" The day dawned with a sense of aftermath For the crude camel-driver.
"We have come !" He said to her: "Here is the royal path" Then, in his heart, the thought began to stir: "The time has come for me to part from her, To sell her beauty for a tidy sum. It should be very simple, since I know, This is the road by which rich merchants come
and go.....