The Happy Wanderer

Hands on my eyes, I walked through the tunnel That fate willed should impose itself On the bandanna-laced lady. Pitch black was the tunnel but no embers Could the cloth that filmed my eyes give way to Even when the Sun smoldered in all fierceness. I was blinded but free. For options I had few, amounting to none, Walking straight ahead, unwavering, stolid, I'd put all my stakes on that one. And poured in it all trust and hope, That warmth which the friction of the greatest Ambitions, hopes, dreams, fancies, fantasies, Only could kindle in the absence of luxury, In  confrontation with a waft of all the tribulations That life could hand out; but I was faced with none, Just with a gripping uncertainty that fettered all doubts, Because it heralded the most colossal trepidation.. I was blinded but free. Free from pangs of hesitation, tremors of fear, Blinded by the power of belief, Because I knew, that the tunnel was corked From the light by my apprehensions. So ...

A phrase that has been haunting us for a year, at the minimum, has been 'Board Exam'. Take my word for it, unarguably, it has been doing so for generation after generation, and, for as long as the Earth remains the only habitable planet in our Solar System, it will continue to, unfortunately, do so. We who stand at the threshold of this perilous festival (by anywhere between a year and a day) should plaster it onto our foreheads, in big, bold, black letters, "BOARD EXAM," so that nobody questions our morose faces, our sunken spirits, our listless behavior.  And everyone leaves us alone, to-be-warriors, immersed in our carnival preparations.  Of course, we need some encouragement. A few inquiries to pamper our morale. A few prods to sharpen our swords and pledge to surrender all else before the enormity of this mighty war.   So people keep asking us to give them pedas after we triumph. This battle is like no other that we have fought. The countless other vic...

We are all stranded in our homes, our doors are pseudo-barricades. No, it's not winter. At least not in the Northern Hemisphere. The sun is beating down on our gardens, roads, shops, parks, schools, malls, but there's no one to capture its glint, no one to warm their minds and hearts with its warmth, no one to perch hats on their heads and film their eyes with cooling glasses. The people are at home. And the homes are cool, for the most part, but if your A.C. is out of repair, you can't get anyone to repair it into working order. Because the repair people are also at home. Are they dodging work? I wouldn't say that. Is it a welcome break? Nope. But it certainly is a break called for, necessary, vital, absolutely essential. So we're working at home. And those who have been given summer breaks, or had them already, the kids, are working too. Not necessarily on their studies right now, for they deserve the break; they're chipping hard at their self-contro...