With thoughts that keep fluttering
Momentarily now, looking at the grey clouds
Fluttering in a jiffy to yesterday
of the bright blue sky (yes, GNR)
And then in a trance thinking of tomorrow
How fickle life is; and how strong the character.
Days of the yore that come
With the swat of the PT teacher's whistle string
Turning red the back of our thighs
To the English prose classes; about Kipling and spice
Friends and the tease
Days when we dreamed
of going to college or making it big
College days and ones spent
wooing and occasionally, oh ever so, being
The idealism and fire, the want to be the best
And yet, not miss a moment of fun
Slumbering away those hot summer afternoons
In the library stacks; and being woken up by the Librarian
And aspiring, each day to be healthy, wealthy and gay (sic!)
Toiling the midnight oil
Trying to make our dreams come true
Working each day as if it would never end
And making the most in what Rand
would agree be productive achievement
Never failing sight of the vision
Growing by the day, adding dimensions to life
Getting caught in an abyss becoming
Another Brick In the Wall (the video)
But that's where God comes in and gives me a kick
Says, son, you aren't fit to be mashed to sausage.
So go on, dream, smile, work and enjoy.
But remember, don't let those dreams become your master.
That's when I remember that the constants through our lives remain
Our dreams and our guides.
Thoughts go out to my parents, teachers, gurus, well-wishers, elders, friends, authors, books, poets on this auspicious day of Guru Poornima. Thank you for all the light you shed on my path.