Every noon when the sun shined bright,
Walking past that lane so quiet,
Where the beams were scattered and the breeze yet cool,
Though the land beyond was burning with fumes!
I wondered how that path was spared,
By the severe strokes bombarded from above in the air?
Strolling on that lane so quiet, where saffron petals were laid beneath my feet so soft,
I thought how this patch was blessed while the others seemed to be under the flames of hell to rot!
I halted and rested under the shadow of that bestower,
Who cared for all who crossed nearby,
Rendered a sweet sleep and a delicate earthy fragrance,
That the wind carried far and wide.
She extended her flowery arms as far as she could,
To pass on the shade onto all those whom she should.
One afternoon while I took brisk steps longing to relax in the Gulmohar’s lap,
I saw a hooligan chopping her floral arms off!
My friend, my saviour looked bent and anytime she could fall.
I rushed and drove that devil away,
Hugged the Gulmohar tight, said I was there.
I got her some water every noon and supported her arms with some strings that I could.
And at no time did she prosper again, escaping her undesired fate.
The mighty Gulmohar yet stands there as a symbol of love, forgiveness and a provider at her best!