VALMIKI

In forest deep, where shadows creep,

Lived Ratnakar, in silence steep.
A man once feared on every trail,
Who looted lives to no avail. --- (1)

With trembling hands and hardened heart,
He played the looter’s ruthless part.
“For bread and kin,” he’d oft explain,
“To feed my clan, I bear this stain.” --- (2)

One day beneath the forest shade,
A saintly soul, in saffron laid—
It was Narada, calm and wise,
With truth that pierced like arrowed skies. --- (3)

“O Ratnakar,” the seer began,
“Why spill the blood of fellow man?”
He bowed and said with voice grown rough,
“I do these deeds to earn enough.” --- (4)

Narada smiled, but with a spark,
“Will they, your kin, bear sins so dark?”
The bandit paused, his soul now stirred,
A question sharp—a sacred word. --- (5)

He rushed to seek his family dear,
His heart now filled with shame and fear.
"Will you," he asked, "my sins embrace,
That I may loot and still find grace?" --- (6)

His parents sighed, his wife looked down,
His son just gave a puzzled frown.
They said, “Your task is to provide,
But sins are yours, none will abide.” --- (7)

Shaken to core, with soul in storm,
He dropped the blade, renounced the norm.
He ran to Narada once more,
A humble man, his ego tore. --- (8)

“I seek release, O holy sage,
From all this guilt, this inner cage.”
Narada said with voice so calm,
“Just chant the name, the name of Ram.” --- (9)

He tried, but found the word too grand,
So "Mara, Mara," he spoke on land.
And chanting thus with heart so pure,
The sound reversed to "Rama"—so sure. --- (10)

Years passed by, like flowing stream,
He sat in penance, deep in dream.
From looter's path to saintly flame,
The world now knew Valmiki’s name. --- (11)

With ink of love and pen of grace,
He wrote of Ram’s divine embrace.
From forest bandit, once so grim,
To sage who sang the Lord through hymn. --- (12)

O tale of change, O tale of light,
Where darkness bowed to truth and right.
Let Valmiki’s path remind us all—
That even sinners can hear the call. --- (13)