The World and The Window

By Iniya Jayaganesh

Is it not perceivable when it comes to 

The window my eyes always linger on?

They peer consciously through the pane

And move along with the crack of dawn;

Each car and bike speeds up and slackens

As each notion sparked is followed by

Pangs of misery and disturbing digression,

For, even though I endeavour and try 

To disconnect myself from grief,

Grief, that the world is seen through a window.

The appealing world, the mesmerizing world

Is changed considerably by spectrums of rainbows.

The world seems to be enormously attractive

From the way it appears to me;

Yet, its size mitigates all hope and belief

That people like me can ever see.

It contracts as time keeps running

As do I from room to room.

Do they not say that in the dark,

Flowers thrive and bloom?

So is ignorance blissful,

With not knowing catastrophic calamities rising

And being bereft of knowledge 

And realization of what I’m missing.

Through that mere glass framed

I keep glaring at to and fro,

I’ve noticed how swiftly and fast

The world keeps turning too.

I stay placidly near my desk

Where I draw out lyrics from my head,

Somehow depressing and musical, but

Well sung is better than well said.

I know, one day, I’ll be out there,

And out of this puny space.

And, that is when, pure ecstasy 

Will start pouring from the world into my face.

By Iniya Jayaganesh