Tuesday, October 18, 2005

Minesweeper

It is like the game at which you excelled,
Broke all records, found all those mines
In 30 seconds flat. Ready to go again.
All set to win every game, ready to outshine,
Our counter-strategies always in vain,
As cold logic got you there, your luck held.

But life, my dear, is not a computer game,
Just like relationships don’t run in binary.
Something you never could fathom.
As you went on believing her in a hurry,
Discarding their complaints as random,
Scoring points and passing around blame.

Now there’s no turning back, no amends
possible. Each loved one is on the brink,
teetering at the point of no return.
While you watch, incredulous, and think
of numerical equations to soothe the burn
of seared souls and blazing fences you can’t mend.

Now the logic of ifs and thens leads to walls
of stony silences or acrimony. Tread light,
my dear, to find your way out of this minefield;
there’s much to lose to the darkest of nights,
Where no one is prepared to give or yield
Or help you gauge whence duty calls.


Now the logic of ifs and thens leads to walls
of stony silences or acrimony. Tread light
my dear, to find your way out of this minefield,
there’s much to lose to the darkest of nights.
Where no one is prepared to give or yield
Or help you gauge whence duty calls.

Pragya

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