I am narrating a story that may be taking place everyday in many houses. The mother gets up in the morning and goes out to decorate the front yard with a beautiful rangOli. The child follows her and wants to help the mother :-) His (her) help consists of coming in the way of the mother’s efforts, stepping on the rangOli dots or wiping them with his (her) tender hands. Finally, the mother has had enough of this. She takes the child and ties the child with a loose string to the nearby pillar. In order to see that the child does not cry, she leaves a bit of rangOli powder near the child and asks him (her) to decorate the floor. Shortly, both the mother and the child finish their chores and look at their creations proudly. The child announces that his (her) rangOli is more beautiful than the mother’s. The mother nods her head in assent and unties the string and lifts the child and showers him (her) with tender kisses and goes inside to narrate this to the child’s father.
In the Telugu poem below, I have changed the cast slightly. The universal mother is Yasoda and the universal child is Krishna. It is written in the metre utpalamAla, a common classical metre in Telugu and Kannada. The baraha transliteration scheme has been used. Even though there is no such rangOli poem in leelASuka’s Krishna karNAmRuta, there are similar poems on Krishna.
cukkala~M beTTe naMdasati suMdaramai yudayAna, kRuShNuDO
cakkani chEtulan duDuva, cappuna talliyu kaTTa~M drATitO,
mikkili yuktitO mruggu niDe mellana, nayyadi cUDa neMtayO
cakkani daMcu~M jeppu hari callaga nellara~M gAcu~M gElatOn
à°šà±à°•à±à°•à°²à° బెటà±à°Ÿà±† నందసతి à°¸à±à°‚దరమై à°¯à±à°¦à°¯à°¾à°¨, కృషà±à°£à±à°¡à±‹
à°šà°•à±à°•à°¨à°¿ చేతà±à°²à°¨à± à°¦à±à°¡à±à°µ, à°šà°ªà±à°ªà±à°¨ తలà±à°²à°¿à°¯à± à°•à°Ÿà±à°Ÿà° à°¦à±à°°à°¾à°Ÿà°¿à°¤à±‹,
మికà±à°•à°¿à°²à°¿ à°¯à±à°•à±à°¤à°¿à°¤à±‹ à°®à±à°°à±à°—à±à°—ౠనిడె మెలà±à°²à°¨, నయà±à°¯à°¦à°¿ చూడ నెంతయో
à°šà°•à±à°•à°¨à°¿ దంచà±à° జెపà±à°ªà± హరి à°šà°²à±à°²à°— నెలà±à°²à°°à° గాచà±à° గేలతోనà±
While Yasoda was arranging the dots in the morning
Krishna was messing it up with his hands
Enough of this
The mother ties him with a thin rope
Following his mother
He too draws a pattern slowly but cleverly
Not only that
He proudly proclaims
Mine is better than yours
May those hands of the little Hari
protect one and all with peace and prosperity
Enjoy!
Regards! - mOhana
In reply to jayAjI, your story remimds by jkmrao