AI-generated illustration Some people, especially those in politics, behave as if they are too great to have any contact with the ordinary folk. And they can get on with whoever comes to power on top irrespective of their ideologies and principles. Sanjay was one such person. He occupied some high places in Sawan school [see previous posts, especially P and Q ] merely because he knew how to play his cards more dexterously than ordinary politicians. Whoever came as principal, Sanjay would be there in the elite circle. He seemed to hold most people in contempt. His respect was reserved for the gentry. I belonged to the margins of Sawan society, in Sanjay’s assessment. So we hardly talked to each other. Looking back, I find it quite ludicrous to realise that Sanjay and I lived on the same campus 24x7 for a decade and a half without ever talking to each other except for official purposes. Towards the end of our coexistence, Sawan had become a veritable hell. Power supply to the
I wish there were roses blooming in my garden too... then may be I can pen some wonderful poetic lines like these. :)
ReplyDeleteTry growing roses; not very tough.
DeleteWe, the worm, the rose, are all going to dust one day, whether the Master wanted it or not.
ReplyDeleteDeep. This one.
Yes, dust is the ultimate reality. In the meantime the worms enjoy the real delights :)
DeleteProfound!
ReplyDeleteThanks.
DeleteDeath makes us same, what differentiates us is the life we live :) And is life worth living without acknowledging each moment?
ReplyDeleteThe lamb and the lion, the rose and the worm... Why did the master have to be so cruel?
DeleteProfound and beautiful :)
ReplyDeleteBeautiful words !
ReplyDelete☺
DeleteWonderful. Loved reading your poem
ReplyDeleteThanks. Glad you said it.
DeleteBeautiful poem.....liked how you brought Blake and Tagore together.....We are all made for the dust....but till we reach the end, a gentle touch would suffice....
ReplyDeleteA gentle touch, yes. The Buddha would nod in assent.
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