Red head
Potshangbam Nyaydhar *
At dusk descends she,
The red head: The female Newton
When young night's scented,
With flowery smell
Appears she in the mouth bearing
G.I. and tons,
With a look so daring
Enters she to teach Prof.'s stupid son
Electrifying and negativism
With her young lass like figure
Flips the pages
To concave, convex and inductions
Each time the red head speaks
Like a wise learned sage,
Still listened the pupil
Like a helpless bird in a cage.
Yet, for solutions the pupil remembers
The red heads physics' maze
What i am? Who i am?
So much for nothing else?
As it seems to me
Why am i lost in this temptations
Of the unstoppable digital world?
Why mobile is not unloading from me?
No more in the mood to study,
Parents, teachers and elders,
No more appear important,
Only for mobile i live,
Even dearer than my own life,
So facilitating is this high tech,
Completely liberated from study
Only for mobile i live,
Day in and day out,
When i am supposed to be studying
I get hooked to my handset
So intimate is the mobile space
Lost, lost, lost is this young soul
Who could have become
Another Einstein or else,
But, so much digitally addicted is me,
That, it seems there is nothing wrong in saying
"Who cares for Kalam's Wings of Fire."
Is there anyone out here,
Who may, perhaps save this drowning young life?
* Poem written by Potshangbam Nyaydhar for Hueiyen Lanpao (English Edition)
This poem was webcasted on May 11 2014.
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