I started school when I was four,

With lots of knowledge ahead, for me to devour,

When my voice was weak and low,

And nerves a bit smaller for the flow,

I started learning the things,

Of this world,

With the frontier of A, B, C, D…

Upon the world, holding a grudge on its own belief,

Where you just have to learn what other teach,

Speak what other speaks,

Hear what other hears,

And see what other sees.

A place with no creativity to dissolve my mind,

Into an unknown chemistry of inventions,

A place where we were melt, prepared,

And moulded into same old moulds and vessels,


But I got myself – a teacher,

The one who knows everything,

Of past, present and future,

I got one to take me to the histories,

Guide me through all the enigmas and mysteries,

Hiding beneath the invisible cloak of my dreams,

I watched how we were created,

How the frontier of A, B, C, D…

When combined together forms,

Invincible rhythm of words called poetry,

I knew that the shapes and moulds were just dummies,

To support us and we just have to break out,

Like a butter-fly does,

Learning goes on,

You just learn to learn while learning,

With Time as your teacher, besides you,

With whom a history is created,

Things are discovered and pages are filled,

Time adds wings on your things, on your thoughts,

Mesmerizes your existence,

Watch you, hits you, scolds you and loves you.


[published in Republica


3 thoughts on “Time

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