The Purple Paper

(Before reading the poetry I would like the readers to make note of some things.When you read the poetry try to compare the contrast in the beginning and in the end of the poetry, specifically 1st & 10th stanza and 4th & 11th stanza. Also just imagine the situation intensely in your mind so that you can carve the real picture out of it)
(After reading the poetry do answer one question that- what was written inside the purple paper?)


Many years back, when the day was fine,
I saw an old man walking in line;
His face reflected the setting sun,
The glory traveled and made me stun;

The dry leaves turned green as he walked,
The cool breeze touched him and sparked;
His silent voice touched my ears,
And the moving moment stopped till years;

He handed over me a purple paper,
Folded in layers with a flowery taper;
The paper reflected his splendid face,
Full of light in the transparent space;

“Unfold the paper when you are in trouble,
But it should be extreme and cost you rouble”;
He said, and smiled with a grace,
The sun set and he walked ahead without a trace;

I kept the paper gently in a book,
Without having a bit of its inside look;
Who was the man, I thought at first,
But I forgot him in the time’s lust;

Later one night, I found myself in worries,
Troubles surrounded me like branch of trees;
I ran to open the purple paper,
To withdraw the troubles like a vapor;

But then I was reminded of the troubles intensity,
Was it the least or of the highest density;
I kept back the paper at its place,
I preserved it for a denser menace;

Like this I surpassed many troubles,
Considering it less than the upcoming doubles;
Layer by layer the present became past,
And I grew older when the time moved fast;

And then, when I was left with my life’s last days,
I unfolded the paper to read what it says;
After reading it I decided what to do,
I realized the script written in it was true;

In my last year of age, when one day was fine,
I saw a young boy walking in spline;
His face reflected the rising sun,
The joy rolled with a higher spun;

I handed over him the purple paper,
And repeated the words of the olden wrapper;
He accepted the paper with the grace,
He stood there on his shoes with the open lace;

These people will die but their purple-ness will prevail,
This paper will perish but its poetry will still sail;
So, let’s not unfold so early, the purple paper,
It’s nothing in it but –“The Purple Paper”