Recollections, Realisations and Reverberations
The pinnacle of delight I climbed so playfully like a child
It was indeed childish; a desire rooted so much in ambition
The height had that idea to test that dose upon me so mild
To send the message that pleasure is just another apparition.
I was so proud of it, that I tried to pass my glee to all friends
Everyone responded to bid bye and to applaud my paltry feat
I tried to mix all of that in my mirth with such a loud cadence
Failed to realise that my head was going much above the feet
When the ‘metal-bird’ flew above the clouds, with me inside
My mind flew with it, not knowing that it was a tricky height
Then I knew not that there is a low equal for every high tide
Dreaming of the final destination, I began enjoying the flight.
There when the gatekeeper asked for my pass to cross the seas
I handed it to him with pride, there was the beginning of the end
Fault was with whom, but the world stood in front of me to tease
I simply prayed before them, but the rod was not there to be bent.
Then the long silence, all alone to face the gloomy music of disdain
A night of nightmare without having time to close the eyes to view it
There was nobody to spill some water over the fire to reduce the pain
Now it is all gone, the dream, and everything, just a small candle lit
2 Comments:
sandeep, if i say, i can understand what mental agony you might have undergone then, it would really be an injustice.still, i am sorry.to see a much longed dream shatter in front of your eyes is terrible,espescially in your childhood,if it was me i would have been broken and lost.whtevr the trajedy be what moved me most is, u still see hope in it and let it take u to all those heights u dreaming of today.
Thank You to Shinychechi and Leshma. I am going to explain what happened for all those who want to know. After one year, it still remains as if it had happened yesterday.
I was about to go to board the Mumbai-Milan flight to attend a summer school at International Centre for Theoretical Physics, Trieste. After all my baggage got into the flight, I was standing in the queue to complete emigration formalities. There, the officer after looking at my passport told me plainly "You can't go". I was terribly broken. They said the photo on my passport was in a bad condition and they are unable to 'recognize' me from that. I went back to the Alitalia officials, and they told me people used to go with worse passport pics. Also my visa photo was perfect. One generous lady there in charge of the flight, when she heard I am in with a rare educational chance, came with me to talk with the officials. We talked and talked, but nothing worked out. They were determined not to let me in. Finally I had to return. But what really affected me was not the shattering of my dream, but the 'sympathy' that some of my 'friends' showered. I was tired of them laughing through their jaws.
A few days later, I wrote this poem.
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