Balarama’s Story

Forever, brother Krishna, I live in your shadows,
Defending joyously all your pranks in them meadows,
With your disc, and my mace , the plough and pestle,
We strove, together to beat them in wrestle,
They, only wrote your name on every leaf,
I accompanied you , partook every loaf,
They , worshipped you at every nook,
They heard your flute at every brook,
I dreamt your success, lapped up your words,
Writhed as my students at war with swords,
Held your hand, your restraint on my shoulders,
As I in wrath, rolled and re-rolled boulders,
For me and the world you are all that matters,
As history ignores me, my heart is at times in tatters.
For I know,
History is you.

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