THE FOLLOWING POEM WAS SELECTED IN WINGWORD POETRY PRIZE 2023 LONGLIST.
The roof of humanity, we all bought from the same shop.
Yet, to seem unique, relying upon the interiors, in search, we hop.
We eat, breathe, and wear the same.
Yet fight our lives to buy fancier names.
Moving eyes over the moving world I feel,
Are they heading to catch a cloud, that is meant to flee?
The era of long walks and longer talks has suddenly faded.
The tech-time is being celebrated, and humans to it have acceded.
Being an idiot addict once to a false state,
I strived my paws back into the calmer estate.
Planting a root in my garden, and watching it grow into a colorful art,
It struck me to the core, why is this not as appreciated as a new technological tart?
I knocked my head and woke myself up.
Made tea, and took my favorite cup.
Running into a robotic world, am I allowed to stick up with a joyful enterprise, I thought.
Where I would not have to run a race daily to a destination I never sought.
Humans are staying more silent than ever, only their Instagram talks.
The peace of sharing emotions, with tears of joy or sorrow, has become a trail over nobody walks.
A misunderstanding turns out to be a mighty issue over a WhatsApp chat.
Meet them in person, seeing the other, laughing hard, you would rather bid goodbye to the spat.
Everyone wants to build a new technology. The ‘start-up’ fad is in.
Nobody notices, how far they have grown from their roots, seeking an advanced living.
In the noises of the vehicles and machines,
Their heart’s echoes are ignored by dear beings.
Humans are planning for the next ten years.
Leaving in the air the bonds that fed their hearts for years.
To earn bucks that could buy a fancy concrete mountain,
Even if the air and water would just come from a polluted fountain.
Staying with the near ones is judged to be a weakness now.
Moving modern and staying alone are fancier meanings of freedom, ow!
Not that the technology isn’t significant, it is for sure.
Driving our lives with some dreamy things that we never thought would be on board.
But, the earth runs with a balance.
Not everyone has to run the same race. We all have different levels of endurance.
If sowing seeds makes you happy, why not do it for a living?
Everyone would cheer you for the fruits you bore, smacking and clapping.
I might be misplaced in this century I feel.
I was supposed to be born in times of love and light when money was a necessity, not a zeal.
The cost of doing things you want, might not pay you enough.
Yet, your heart would be the happiest kid, which to ignore seems tough.
Talk to yourself, and take some time off. Rest your mind, take a rug, and get in.
Do not lose yourself in the modern maze, listening to your heart is always in.
The sun of the next day is waiting.
Hope you know what is your calling!