As I pick up
Those small grains
Of light brown,
My forehead packs up
In a queer little frown…
What if,
Whey could talk to me? I think,
As I close my eyes
And feel their kinks.
Would they tell me
About the battles fought long ago?
Some untold story of a hero
Of what he died in vain for
Or civilisations
That were here long ago,
Still undiscovered,
Still unknown…
Or maybe,
As mythology tells,
Battles with monsters
And wisdom from the Gods…
Or could there be
Some natural calamity,
Some man-made disaster;
Something that
Wreaked havoc millenniums ago…
Something that
Struck fear into someone’s heart,
Something that
Brought loads of sorrow…
Crumpled and shattered,
Mercilessly by time…
Isn’t it hard to believe
That these grains
May have been boulders long ago!
I can see the sun set
As I open my eyes, I wonder
How much these tiny grains,
In all their splendid muteness,
Must have witnessed!
ARIHANT HEMENDRA, VII B, TIGPS, Santiniketan, West Bengal
