The Unbecoming

One day, when the burning ball rose
Birds chirped their sanguine hymn
The roads gazed their tarry pose
Cars danced on their rubber rings

A day just like any other
I stumbled upon a sack
Replete with a mirror and feathers
Feathers tickled the mirror and it cracked

It was no ordinary glass
A portal to another world
Where both, I and you could pass
To bask on a journey of unbecoming, in a swirl

I cross over, to the land of the free ones
Four days a week, the rest I stay back and coy
They are enterprising, unlike dubious humans
The feature of their planet is their pulsating joy

They are students and I am to facilitate
They are to learn and become
But as I meet them I learn to open up confined gates
They lead me to become everyone and no one

They are the artists and I’m the canvas
We create our own path, with me as their mentor
They paint me as they wish
And sometimes we take a detour

Every encounter with the little youngsters, is an emergence for me
From the chrysalis of self-knowledge infancy
Never before have had I felt so adhered and free
I’m humbled to be a branch of this knowledge insurgency

No words can completely fathom the process
This shall forever dwell, in my hearts recess

My prayer for everyone is to savor this emotion
In thy life, a big broad canvas of commotion

IMG_20181001_171513_BokehAbout the author: Ashok Yadav joined Apni Shala as a programme fellow after finishing his Graduation. When he is not in class building life skills with children, Ashok enjoys adventure sports, art, conversations and contemplation.

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