Watching a priest prostrating
before a teak tree draped
in yellow silk, flowers and bells
are tied around making it look
like a bride.
The priest chant slokas,
calls the birds who flock to tweet
the squirrels come down to squeak
bees swarm buzzing, leaves rustle
the branches tweak.
With folded hands, the priest
seeks permission to fell the tree
from the inhabitants. Birds sing,
squirrels chirp. bees hum, leaves flutter,
in delight,
sensing the cue
the wood cutters go near
place their hands on the trunk
pray and start work. The teak tree
will become the flagpole
of Sabarimala.
Tree falls down with pride.
—
Meenas Poems 