We as humans seem to have inherited,
Lots of responsibilities,
Willingly or unknowingly,
As soon as born, we (have to) cry,
And soon suck the mother's milk,
By pressing her breasts,
Lest we will die, or we need to be fed,
Soon by external product!
And then we have to walk, and learn,
Many things, fall and rise on our own,
Learn lot of lessons, and take up jobs,
And earn money for our families.
And we build houses for our children,
And get them married so they,
Produce again babies like we did,
And there is no respite to sit alone,
And ponder over our own life,
What was my goal, what was my ideal,
what was I supposed to do and,
What not do????
And one day I fall, break my bones,
Get BP, diabetes, cancer, and I am told,
Listen to serene and sleep inducing,
Music or religious discourses,
Because I am having sleepless,
Nights, since the pains and worries,
Have now become unbearable.
And I learn some lessons at the fag,
End of my life: detachment, no desires,
No sentimentalism, no hatred, no moh,
No kaam & krodh, do worships,
And prayers, give daan, everything is,
Mithya, nothing is permanent,
And so on and on...
And my children come with some,
Official looking papers and show me,
Lot of affaction and love to me,
Cry and weep, massage my legs/feets,
They had never touched earlier,
And tell me: how shall we live,
Without you, you were so nice to us??
And then show me the papers,
And tell me: we will live seeing your,
Signatures on these papers,
And you will be ever in our memories!!
And I put my lessons learnt from the,
Sermons heard in practice, and put,
My pious signatures on these white,
Papers, and feel greatly relieved,
That I atleast did something sensible,
In my life, I sacrificed my life in the,
Form of the ink that would brighten,
The future of my lovely and innocent,
Children and their families,
May be I was born and lived,
Only for that!
And I never came to know:
Why was I really here?
What else was I supposed to do?
*****
