THE PAUPER’S PRINCESS

Treading lightly across the silken floor,

The lass came knocking upon his broken door.

Drenched in the stormy winter’s hail,

She trembled; her visage dim and pale.

Her angst she poured out on to his humble ears,

Like pearls of dew, her cheek held a few solitary tears.

His fatigued face gazed at her sublime portrait,

As she narrated the serendipity of her sad fate.

She was a princess of a land quite asunder,

She had but committed a childish blunder.

Banished from the kingdom of her vile ancestry,

He now heard her tale and yet admired her facial tapestry.

For a pauper such as he with just a ramshackle roof and bread,

He had manners gentler than even the most well-bred.

And thus he invited her to take refuge in his humble home,

Little knowing that he had begun a tale of love’s epitome.

As she strode into the dim light of his tiny hall,

He saw her face with clarity, and was taken once and for all.

Serene even in dire times, and glowing like the abyss struck by light,

He could not draw his eyes away as his heart fell into eternal plight.

He gave her his share of bread and ancient ale,

All this while tethering the might of his inner gale.

His eyes were drawn to her in a manner uncontrolled,

Tender and demure, she beamed with a beauty unforetold.

As he lay that night, starved, parched and melancholy,

His eyes caught her tresses stained in the moonlight holy.

Her fingers he described as objects of angelic splendour,

The tempest had begun, and all he could summon was a meek surrender.

All his food, all his water – all was for this maiden of yonder,

How he got victualed, was a matter now of minimal ponder.

For he had love now, and all his indigence was cast away,

His heart knew nought, except that it would in this rosy breeze, sway.

Each day she told him a tale of her solitary life,

A princess of not just lineage, but also of charm amidst strife.

They grew fonder as the weeks and months flew,

And she wondered if he was a pauper or a prince gone askew.

In her presence, his face had regained its old glory,

Brazen may be his face, but his heart no longer gory.

She cared not that he was poorer than her steed,

She gazed at him, and knew from within of love’s growing greed.

One fine eve, on the outlook for a night’s meal,

They both learnt that Cupid had struck this uncanny deal,

There was no food that night, no water to share,

Only a kiss that would even the Lords of passion; ensnare.

She had been neglected as a child by every semblance of joy,

He had been at the brunt of the cruelties of many a rich boy.

She had been outcast from royalty into sudden calamity,

And thus in this pauper’s arms she had found her divinity.

Only the lord above could have had the ingenuity,

For such a match that the world would call incredulity.

Two rejected souls finding each other in the midst of a storm,

Thus would begin the tale of these two who broke every norm.

As love enveloped them, they grew stronger as one,

‘Let the world berate us, but Cupid’s darts ain’t undone’,

Said he, as he drew her into a protective embrace,

‘Let the world berate us, but our love shall hold its place’.

As they lay to rest on that moonless night,

Their hands lay entwined much akin to their sight.

Consumed by their love, their souls united in a heavenly ire,

To the world’s hypocrisy they lit a raging pyre.

Their bliss grew abound like a fledgling taking flight,

Their love now seemed like a panegyric with noble might.

Humanity with all its wealth and pride still seemed deeply fazed,

While the pauper and his princess left their haters dazed.

A year had passed, and then a couple,

And this tale of love stayed free of trouble.

Until on a fine sunny noon, he heard the cavalry,

And went out his abode shouting ‘What is this devilry?’

A man decked up in royal attire of silk and gold,

Alighted from his steed and gave him a gaze cold.

‘I come from the land quite asunder to yours’,

‘And I speak on behalf of the Lords of the Morse’.

‘We hearken upon our road that you have our princess benign’,

‘She has been with you pauper and you have brought us malign’.

‘Banished was she by her father, the Lord’,

‘For she had once fled beyond the forbidden ford’.

‘He has had a change of heart and he wants his jewel back’,

‘And that is why we have come upon this arduous track’.

‘He has also heard of the pauper who took his daughter in’,

‘And has decreed you to be punished for this nihilistic sin’.

Seized he was by the guards and brought to his knees,

Had he been given love, only for it to now thus cease?

They dragged his princess out and dragged her out of his ken,

And began to take him for caging in a dingy den.

He craved one last sight and perhaps one last touch,

For despite all his poverty, despite not having much.

He had opened his heart to her in a manner unforetold,

And she had done the same to give him more than gold.

All his life he had been calm, he had been patient,

But now his savagery would be potent.

For he kicked the steed and its carrier with blunt brute,

And escaped into a treacherous jungle, and left everyone mute.

They pursued him not, for few survived that forest,

Even the souls of the dead there, would dwell in eternal unrest.

With this thought, they carried on, as the princess stayed her gaze forlorn,

Was this then her fate – to be hated and lovelorn?

Months then passed and they heard not of each other,

The princess dried her eyes and tried to her tears, smother.

She knew not if he lived, she asked and prayed with a glance upward,

And wondered how her life had become so ugly and untoward.

Courage she sought every night and every day,

She looked for every sign to cull her deep dismay.

She saw then a brazen mark of love left afore,

And then knew that she had to find him on whichever distant shore.

A wild, untamed indigent he now seemed to be,

He lurked in quarters of the woods that none could ever see.

He hardly fed or drank, and sat merely in a solitary clearing,

Staring into the water struck by light and recalling her face endearing.

A man of empty eyes he seemed,

Hurt and sadness within him teemed.

But there was still love, there was still faith,

He would have her, sparring even the ghastliest wraith.

One noon, when he was stricken with wild hunger and thirst,

Through the foliage, suddenly a glowing bird burst.

His eyes lit up and he chased her down,

Only to see that it was a dove with the symbol of the crown.

He let her go, but not before he saw the note at her feet,

He opened it gently, trembling like a boy with a treat.

He knew that hand, he knew that parchment’s scent,

And then what he read, took his bliss to a heavenly ascent.

‘I met a pauper on a stormy winter night of hail,

I was but a lass, trembling and pale.

He took me in, he gave me shelter,

I dwelt with him there until my heart went helter-skelter.’

‘He was not rich, he had no royalty,

But there was something about him that sang of divinity.

Love was then abaft upon my vessel of pain,

Never before had I felt more whole and sane.’

‘Separated I was then, from his loving embrace,

They called my love abomination, labelled me a disgrace.

I cared not for the world and its consternation,

For I knew that in him lay my destination.’

‘To this very pauper I now beseech my request,

I have sought you and found you for you are my only quest.

On this moonless night, behind the nearest cabin, where love made its first caress,’

I shall wait for you, for I can only be this pauper’s princess.’

-Tushar Warrier

 M.Tech Student - Biotechnology & Biochemical Engg.