Monday, September 8, 2008


It was an ordinary day,
The sun rose,
Just as beautiful as it always does,
I sat down to describe its beauty,
Its warmth,
its splendor,
I felt it was my duty.
I could hear the birds chirping,
I could hear their sweet twittering,
There were those huge oak branches swaying,
As if dancing,
And the leaves rustling,
To the soft melody,
Of the gentle breeze.
Yes! It was just another ordinary day,
And as always there were the chirping birds,
But as I sat down to write,
I felt,
As if I had no words!!

What had happened?
All of a sudden!!
How could I lose my ability?
When all my life I’ve been writing poetry.
What had happened?
I could not understand!
So confused, so muddled,
My mind just wouldn’t apprehend!
And there I was,
Lost in my sea of thoughts,
Yet couldn’t produce a single word on paper.

But one thing I knew for sure
My mind was right, my heart- pure.
What was amiss?
I knew not.
But, I knew I had to find the reason,
And fast. Else it’ll be too late.
I threw my pen and cursed my fate!
Yet! Ah my life with its sorrows abound,
Poetry was where solace I found!
Now that was gone too -Oh God!
I need your help, My Lord!

I set to a hard day’s work,
Crossing many dangers,
Asking every stranger.
It was a long, tiresome task,
But I noticed something really strange-
Each man wore a different mask,
Different from its own identity.
“Was it some kind of enmity-?”
I questioned myself,“From their own soul and self?
“Which led them to live such a life?
They weren’t free- rather scared.
Asi f there were this huge knife,
somewhere close by, waiting to slice off their head,
While they waited and waited.
“Is this life all about?” I thought.
If yes, then I felt I was blessed.
I was free, I was careless
Of that I was sure.
And I started my journey back home.
Yet there was sorrow, and a piercing pain.
After all, what I had lost,
Was precious, not mundane.
The more I thought about it,
The more I seemed to regret.
What had happened was not my fault,
Yet I couldn’t forget.
“Is this what life’s all about?”
I asked myself,
But this time I got no reply.

As I was returning,
Walking in the rain to hide my tears,
I saw this innocent face,
Which knew nothing but fears.
“Is this what life’s all about?”
I asked myself yet again
And this time I got my answer-
‘Life, in itself, is one great pain”
All of a sudden, my words returned to me!
But this time,
I won’t waste them on things mundane,
I have a purpose now,
I am aimless no more,
Just one different day changed my life,
Made me see huger and strife,
Pain and loss, and anguish of the soul,
But- no more!
But- no more!

BY: Kriti Sharma, B.A. Hons. English 1st year.