The withering winter
Sky high were the kites.
As days have begun longer , so are the dreams of the world with inoculation.
Though limping in between , with caution appropriate, learners are slowly stepping into the gates of the campus.
The inner child emerges in everyone:
Are the classes to be held as before the pandemic?
Am I allowed to lie
on the floor and listen?
Can I carry the mobile to classroom?
Can I share food with friends?
Are we allowed to have run and fun?
The piercing and deafening voice to emerge again with a thumping on the desk,
The sweet caring pat to be ready to learn, asking again and again,
and making the learner ready?
Waiting for the distant voice to come in green dots, and slowly the display of the face, Will it be so again, emerging down from beneath the table,
with curious inner eyes alert,
and all the seven entry points of the head on heels
to learn the lessons!
Many say, the lessons were to unlearn the learning!
An enquiry into the realms of inner world fumes:
the baseline remains:
be thyself in the existence!
ready to wake up with sun, to nourish the rays of kindness and compassion,
to share with brethren the love , yet to bloom!
The winter too but withers away.
Yet another way
kindling the frigidity with warmth.
Learning continues, life long
And all learn the lessons
that lessons are never learnt!