I passed an oak tree nearby
Lost in my world of grief and cries
The robin sitting on the branch called out
“Aye human, you a’right?”
Thunder struck in my head,
A robin spoke, just as I might!
The voice was firm and toned polite
‘‘Was he really there?
were I really alive?’’
Before this question I could answer,
The robin answered in my sight!
“Good question, human. Now ask again.
Are you alive?”
Yes, the robin spoke just as I might.
“Yes, I am, walking past you.
Don’t you derive?”
“Are you alive?”
“Oh yes I am and you mister are such a pry”
“In that case, why in your maze,
You’re spiraled up as the world lights?”
“Um… in that case, I believe,
you mistook lights for frights”
Hearing so, the robin laughed.
As happens, the sound got on my nerve.
A petty petty creature derided me
Me, the witty witty man.
“Uh! You slurp at worms.
You move in flocks,
you run from your kind.
And teach me life?
Bird, o bird! On the other side of the spectrum,
you mistake your oblivion for wisdom”
“Oh, I’m a wizard’s travesty!
and my life to you, I gather, isn’t a mystery.
So just out of query,
why is your life to you, so weary?”
Hearing that crime
I exclaimed, “weary?!
I’m not trying to rhyme
but hey sloth, unlike you
I’m hurrying with time.”
“Why would you hurry for a life,
that can’t keep you alive?”
“Oh it’s not the life I run after
The hurry is after the price.
sweet li’l bird” I laughed,
“My world is shrewd
my world is a hound, wild and rude.
Here, men and ducks are sold alike.
Buyers become buys in a flip of an eye”
The bird was numb. Maybe a little grump
To my surprise, this time, the voice was even polite
“In a flip of an eye the world looks new
try refocusing and questioning the views.
Look around you, if you’ve got those eyes.
Rise above this rat race. Spin the dice”
“Robin, I believe, this conversation of ours,
is a sod’s law and can go on for hours.
You fly high, bird.
Swim in your sky with grace
for, my dear life, is none of your business.”
With that, we parted.
Our diverged ways, once again started.
I smiled at myself
and thought to myself,
Who tells the robin,
about the complex binding of the human mind?
The gruesome ego that makes us blind
Its constant feeding on humility’s famine
The same amour- propre which veto me to admit
“Robin, you’re right...”
***
Author's Bio: Prakriti Deb is an 18 year old girl living in Kolkata, India. She started keeping a journal at the age of 8 after learning about Anne Frank’s diary from her cousin and eventually fell in love with the character after reading the book 4 years later. She likes scripting dramas, reading hopeless romantic fiction and existentialist sagas, drinking coffee and practicing bharatnatyam. She is currently pursuing English Honours and wishes to have her own podcast on a recognized platform and a home with a study room.
I approve.
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