A poetic homage to the Messiah of sweet songs
On her birth centaury
Oh Mistress of Singing ,
Oh Miraculous Singer,
Millions are your Slaves,
Mind and Soul alike
One hundred years back you were born,
Like a lotus flowering in the lake of songs ,
In Madurai which boasts of the golden lotus pond,
And possibly conquered the world , by your sweet wail.
Your mother a virtuoso Veena player ,
Decided to call you the “young mother”,
Possibly knowing that you are going to nurture like a mother,
The sweetest music that no one has ever heard,
Great Gurus who tried to coach you,
Were surprised to see that your voice was pure nectar,
And when that nectar got mixed with honey of music,
Not a single soul who listened to you did not become ecstatic.
It is but natural that you chose music to worship your God,
And made us your slaves who wanted to hear you again and again,
So that with tears in our voice and choke in our throat,
WE approached our goddess of music , for fulfilling our wants.
You were to us the Meera who was drowned in devotion to Krishna ,
You were to us the girl who fought against ills of world in “Home of service(Seva Sadan) ”,
You were to us the Savithri who conquered death of her husband ,
You were to us the Shakunthala who pined for her Dushyantha
You were the one who exhorted to us to love our motherland,
You were the one who taught us how to chant Sahasranamam,
You were the one whose song would wake up the lord of the Seven hills,
You were the one whose lullabies in several languages made Indian babies sleep.
You were the one who addressed the world and told them to worship friendship,
You were the one who told your Govinda that you do not have any problems,
You were the one who called Lord of Sri Ranga and told him he was Rama too,
You were the one who sang the story of Rama , meditating on him with humility.
Awards , titles , approbations and applauds were heaped on you ,
Though you were already the goddess of music in our hearts,
You accepted them all with great humility and a pretty smile,
And in your heart decided that these were orders of God to sing more.
Oh Queen , Oh Nightingale oh Gem of our Motherland ,
Why this hurry to leave us all with so much haste,
Leaving us all orphans unable to hear your voice ,
But we all want to wish our uncrowned queen of music ,
“A happy hundredth birthday”.