Where are the lines ?

After an endless wait for openspace harper collins to declare the results of the poetry competition, i give up, i am publishing this poem irrespective of their conditions. Yes i really expected it could get some prize ... may be just a consolation.

The theme for the contest is 'borders' - nevertheless, i wrote what i wanted to - :) .. its a long long poem.

Enchanting Lines

It was all a sheet of plain paper,

No joy, no pain or anger for that matter.

 Get up, eat, sleep, was the only way of living

Nobody really alive, they were all just ‘being’.

 Then came a Wiseman from place unknown,

 Said “It was time, the blandness be gone”.

 He drew a line, studying the paper for long,

One part of it was right, the other he said was wrong.

 “From now onwards, things wont be same again,

There will be happiness and sorrow and anger and pain”.

 “There will be hope and faith and emotions plentiful,

You will soon realise, life could be beautiful”.

 “Sometimes it would be pink and sometimes it could be blue,

Now starts the fun, the game is left to you”.

And then he was gone, never to be seen again,

People went back to their life, waiting for it to begin.

Oh yes ! It all changed, nothing was as it was,

The line was all important, there were rules and laws.

People now felt happy, when the line was honoured,

Anger towards the outlaws, the laws should not be tampered.

There was hope and faith and start of new religions,

Something to hold as ‘truth’, or just some sort of opposition.

But slowly people complained, the line was inflexible,

This is not how it should be, we should be considerable.

There started to be exceptions, initially unnoticeable,

But as they grew, their resistance no longer remained so subtle.

With every passing day, they pushed the line a little,

We were born free they said, so why create obstacle ?

Then one day it happened, the line was out of sight,

“Hurray we are free, things will now be bright”

They sang and danced and had a lot of fun,

Nothing to stop them from making it happen.

But soon they realised, they couldn’t even take a side,

‘Cos everything was acceptable, everything right.

They were of course free to go, as far as they would,

But how do they decide, how much they should ?

Confused with the freedom, they were confused with possibility,

But more than anything they were scared of the responsibility.

Responsibility to own up, the decisions that they make,

To face the results of a step, they were not so sure to take.

They searched and searched, but the line had long faded,

They slowly realised, a decision will have to be made.

Everybody then, their own line drew,

Being true to it, was the only way to live.

Different, equal, all the lines compelling,

Fine, illusive, simply enchanting.

 

But thats not the point of the post - in the sense that is precisely the point of the post, but the poem makes  a point in the hypothetical situation. Heres the practical problem -

I was talking to manan the other day, and he asked me why i say i wont have a kid. Simple i said, apart from the fact that there is absolutely no point getting one more human being in this mess, i have some basic problems - for eg how do i tell him whats right and whats wrong ? i cannot tell him not to smoke or not to drink or not to indulge in premarital sex. I dont believe in god - so i cant tell him about that. I cant even answer a simple question of why are u living. I cannot take a stand for somebody else -  So till he gets 18 and is on paper capable of thinking for himself - how do i protect him from not being the person i dont want to him to become ? Now i dont even know if it is right to 'want' him become a certain way ... after all he is a different human being.

My mother had such a conviction in classifying  good and  bad. Sometimes i envy her - for the conviction and the faith. I think this is one big problem facing this generation.