I was one among the populated pupils
Of half a dozen noted schools, a college
Gathered some information from books, teachers there
You might mean my growth of knowledge
Skill to tap opportunities, the moulding power
To better the locality I belong to, state of intricate affair
It’s partly ‘ yes’ and partly ‘no’
For all my learning lends no license
To have my journey peaceful, humpless, comely go.

My train runs whistling, passing fields and forests
Farmland, pasture, across the river
In sunny or foggy weather, not sure
Where to halt, when to restart with meaning or not.

Now, I think, am newly admitted to a strange school
Where syllabi designed suddenly, exams approach unexpectedly
Results coming out intangible, so slow
One might conclude – test is the go.

As I grow, attractive balloons of pleasure and pain
Turn into dreams inviting a chase
On rails of time, speed, the train does raise
Leaving behind, all familiar, faithful, loathsome, known
Thus it goes on, no stern caution,to unknown zone
‘The Driver’ knows best the final destination.
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( Self -written and unpublished )
©Antaryami Mishra.