And voiced their minds out.
They sang their feelings
Of pains and pleasures
Of meetings and partings
Emerging out of their days.
The tradition went on and on
Till one day someone wanted-
Again to store and preserve
What some of them said
As none loved to forget
And lose what once had they had.
The Sun of Words had risen
In the eastern sky, then
Illuminated the remaining
Zones of darkness and cold lands.
Words prevailed since then…
Some became the Vedas
Some became Epics, framed
Some were for the tamed
Some were for the free..
Those who loved to flee-
Away from the warmth, to the pole
Away from the dearth, to the whole
Away from the walls, to the mountain
Away from the wells, to the fountain
Away from the deaths, towards life, broad
Away from the beds, towards the bright road.
Now they had three clans
The largest loved to follow
What is easy.
The smallest loved to glow
With what is right.
But the other clan loved
Learn never but rule ever.