Life

Each one of us, has a stopwatch to our name,
Once it hits ‘start’, thus begins the game.

Every second clocked, brings you closer to time-out,
There is no room for cheating, no rules to bend or flout.

For, I may do whatever, as my seconds tick by,
I may build a whole world, make people laugh and cry;

I may pile and pile my dreams, and paint my thoughts all bright,
I may flag the highest peak- do whatever one might.

But, all this while, my clock times my stay,
It won’t stop or slow down, do whatever I may!

My dear ones will try, to make its hand hold,
And snatch some extra seconds; to tell me things untold,

But nothing will stop the clock, as its little hand moves on,
For does the sun skip the dusk, or does it miss a dawn?

My ten minutes of life, are just a cog in a Giant Wheel-
The wheel that moves the universe, with no care to think or feel.

Once my ten minutes are up, the cog that’s me- moves out,
Coz a new cog must fit in, sans a second’s delay or doubt.

When the stopwatch with my name, made the last stroke,
Another’s made stroke one- Just as I slept, he awoke;
Nothing changed in the universe- the giant wheel moved on,
Though, they all spared some seconds, to note that my cog was gone…

They wept tears to my name, until they had no more to give,
Their stopwatch beeped alarm: x minutes for them to live!!

And the cogs that they were- went back to rolling on and on,
Minutes later, they had bigger issues- than to grieve that I was gone.

Now and then, they’d remember me: ‘the cog that fit right there!’,
And how it had moved The Wheel- I’d get my credit’s due share.
And of course, how good a cog I’d been- would count a fair bit,
But, I would still remain just a Cog-in-the-Wheel- that’s it!

Is something wrong with this model? Is this God’s great plan?
Is this all that he designed- when he gave life to Man?
What about all our tears, all laughter, and all our dreams?
What becomes of all our thoughts, our silent prayers and our screams?
Do none of those matter? Do they add up to a naught?
Is human life, a castle of cards, to be blown apart in a shot?

Is there something not right? Is something about this unfair?
Maybe we’re just to cherish, their ten minutes that were there.

God bless!

Punctuations!

An SMS received recently (in response to my suggestion of scheduling a meeting the next day)

“Tomorrow is bad dysfunctional Shruti. I will be occupied with a client from Singapore..”

Clearly, the lack of punctuation marks leaves a lot to interpretation and imagination. Especially with regard to the usage of words “bad” and “dysfunctional” – I wondered whether these adjectives were used to describe tomorrow or Shruti.

I figured the following possible intended messages:

“Tomorrow is, bad dysfunctional Shruti…**a description of his plans of the morrow, having established the fact that Shruti is bad and dysfunctional**”

“Tomorrow is bad, dysfunctional Shruti… **an explanation to the very dysfunctional shruti, as to why the morrow is bad for a meeting**”

Of course, in heart of hearts, I’d like to think, it was tomorrow that was being berated as bad and dysfunctional (Tomorrow is bad, dysfunctional, Shruti). But, *Sigh* knowing the sender, and knowing his knowledge of me, can I cross my heart on that? ;)