Maharshi

Maharshi Aurobindo, you tell me Sire, about your wife Mrinalini Devi, Why did you marry her, A girl bride, Giving expectation and hope to the eyes of hers, Why did you propose before And why did you marry her, If you had not to abide by sansar-dharma, Worldliness, If you had to be a karmayogin, A yogi of Pondicherry? Maharshi, you may be a great propounder of yoga and philosophy, Transformational yoga, But say you about, What it would have gone upon the heart of Mrinalini Devi Dividing her time In between the maternal uncles’ and father’s houses, O, say you about her, The sweet wife of yours Whose hands held you And who took you too for naught? You turned into a yogi, sadhu and sadhaka, Wrote down The Life Divine, The Mother and others, But what did she the pool lady, Looking blank and wide-eyed, Standing at the door, Viewing the world-wide blankly? Letting her choose a life of her own, By making her understand, You shifted to Pondhicherry To spend your days With the French shisya And hectic ashrama activities. You turned into a philosopher, but all cannot be, And even if one is from one’s within, all become not And if all renounce the world, who will The sansar dharma? What it happened on, passed on the poor heart of Mrinalini Devi, You could not, Aurobindo.