Saraswati’s Song

In the temple’s hallowed halls, Where notes danced like morning dew, A child’s voice soared, pure and true, Guided by stars and ancestral calls.

Madurai’s daughter, Kunjamma, they named, Her veins sang melodies, ancient and divine, Veena strings whispered secrets, intertwine, As she blossomed, her destiny proclaimed.

Semmangudi’s wisdom, Hindustani’s grace, Nurtured her soul, shaped her lyrical flight, In the 100-pillared hall’s soft moonlight, She sang, a celestial offering to space.

Bhaja Govindam echoed through her being, Meenakshi’s name flowed like sacred streams, And Vishnu’s thousand names, a radiant dream, In her voice, devotion’s eternal spring.

M.S. Subbulakshmi, your legacy gleams, Bharat Ratna, Ramon Magsaysay’s embrace, At the UN, your song bridged time and space, A timeless treasure, music’s celestial beams.