Today morning, when I was cleaning my book-shelf a.k.a. The Divine Den Of Doom (3D), a crumpled piece of paper dropped on the floor. I opened my nuclear-radiation-protection gloves and picked it up. It was a poem scribbled with a blunt pencil on a piece of paper which was otherwise filled with mathematical rough calculations. I wish I had a scanner so that I could have shared it with you. Nevertheless, I’ll write down whatever I had written.

When I was writing this poem, the initial intention was to expel my anger and frustration of the pressure of studying. Look how I challenge God. And note how it ends.

Prelude: Winter Vacations – Was (supposed to be) studying – early morning – felt extremely frustrated- exhausted of the pressure – had to vent my feelings – scribbled a poem.

Once on a drowsy winter morning,
On my bed, I lay awake.
Looking at the ceiling, blinking and yawning,
I wondered if God was all but fake.

The moon was dull and tired,
But the stars were shining bright.
All my faith had expired.
I was losing this bloody fight.

Lonely and filled with misery,
My soul writhed in pain.
Why? Is this not treachery?
All pain and no gain?

The lizard approaches, licking the air,
Waiting for the moment to strike.
The poor fly sleeps, unaware.
Is this what my situation is like?

When will this conflict end within me?
When will I have some peace?
When will you set me free again?
That I can be myself - not this!

You have not understood, you stupid!
This is just a golden chance.
The problem is within you, insipid,
You rectify it, you advance.

Shut the f*** up you stupid voice,
Stop your jabber – its odd!

Obey me or not, its your choice,
But I am the spokesperson of God.

Life is unfair, Life is rude,
Your God’s administration sucks big time.

The Lord is fair, The Lord is good.
His administration punishes every crime.

Holy shit! Answer me then,
What crime have I done?

Many crimes you have done often,
Yet he has punished you for none.

Everything you say is so hard to decipher.
When I am at the sharp edge.

Then maybe you will find it easier,
If I use your language.

Use any horrid language you want
But please make me understand.

Then I’ll have to be very cold and blunt,
Tell me – What answers do you demand?

The end.

I did not have anything to say. It was like there was a good angel on my right shoulder and an evil angel on my left shoulder when suddenly the evil angel goes – *puff* – and disappears into thin air. All the frustration and anger fled away into the fields. And my room was full of encouragement and energy. I was filled with fresh vigor and for the first time in about 6 months, I had studied seriously for some time (Oh yes I did!).

Months later, today, when I was reading this poem, I realized the gravity of the words which had come out from my own self. It was amazing. I couldn’t believe that I could have had so many conflicting emotions at the same time. I was astonished that I had myself written both sides of the poem.

I was speaking for myself – as well as for my conscience.