All of us out here
Have something to dread
The maths exercises at the end of the chapter
That have to be read
Read on, and stared at, and gaped at and sighed
"I can't solve a single problem,
I don't deny"
Pen in my hand and notebook before,
Every time, I get a solution, the answer cries, "Encore"
Try again and again and you may get it right,
But chances probably are that you never might.
Out of desperation
And sheer frustration
And consolation
For my battered soul;
I turn to the last page of my Maths notebook,
Nothing else will condole.
For here lies my kingdom of total fantasy,
Here I am the King, here is total ecstasy.
Little additions, subtractions, multiplications and divisions,
And all those wee little things
That'll drive away my arithmetic inhibitions
Small notes alongside, curses and remarks,
Every minute thought that this soul embarks.
Here is where I've drawn Mona Lisa with my pen,
And here is where I find succor again and again.
Here lie my best poems, couplets and rhymes,
And here is where during my study hours,
I commit my most heinous crimes.
The last page, the very last page of my maths note book,
Come ye all who will, come and have a look.
Here is where I'm creative, when the world says "NO! NO!!"
Here's where I’m Einstein or Newton or all the great ones that you know.
But, the last page, why the last page why not the first?
Why don't you turn to the first page?
If you are all that well versed?
Well, you see the last page has a charm that's one of its kind,
It’s like chicken for the soul, the heart and the mind.
In moments of distress or extreme anxiety,
We always seek solace from the most ignored.
THAT symbolizes the last page,
You'd hardly look at it
It’s treated as a burden wearisome and misfit,
But ironical that life is, we always turn to this,
Whenever in our lives, something is amiss.
Life is too complicated; try to make it a bit light,
Turn to the last page, its guaranteed to fill you with delight.
We all have a last page, only that we don't seek to find,
We'd rather seek back and sulk, we're just not inclined.
So, in moments of sorrow or anger or rage,
One great idea, turn to the last page.
Honesty is the best policy is an age-old adage,
I'd rather be honest,
This composition too, was written on the last page!
[September, 1999, Delhi]
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1 comment:
I'd not say anything about this piece for I don't have any words to embody my feelings. All I can say is that it sent a dash of fresh air through my mind. If you ever write a book collecting all the pieces on your weblog, convince your publisher that there'll be at least one copy sold.
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