Author: Ananya Julka, Class XII F
All it took was a clement breeze to sway you away
As you pirouette, then down again, quite the enchantress that you are
I gazed into your ocean blue, the sensation of your serenity
and your addictive redolence chaining me in captivity
Or maybe it was the manipulation, somehow effortless, it seemed, to walk away
Yet I couldn’t fall back into the ordinary, betraying a château so august as you
Frightening was a world without your power flowing through me
Colossal were the opportunities to discover, limited were my capabilities to see
The dew of resentment streamed a waterfall down my eyes
As I walked away, without rationality, yet without the motive to hurt
Because I had great things to do and lovely places to be,
And that’s the greatest tragedy in all of history
“When a word is written it begins to live.” A thought of true dilemma it seems to me, for there must be an author of the universe to present this truth – she who mandates the estuary to flow so, replicating the lissome she carries ever so elegantly, she who gave her life. The sweet petrichor carries her docile touches of femininity, the girthy stems on the aging primordial banyan represent her brawn and sheer resilience through malevolence; wind, fire, flood. They’re all characters in volumes of her work, yet somewhere she hesitated to give them the same morality as others for they all cannot be good obeying children for a story to unfold as the gripping tale it is. Humans, she made to be the greatest tyrants of all, and they flourished such that nobody was safe from them, not even the author herself. No character had she allotted so much power and potency as them, they who were meant to be wonders of this world.
Yet slowly in the tale of twists their tyranny reigned over all characters she’d ever created. Powerless, clueless, helpless they all faded away one by one until mankind was the only species left to be. And eventually they discarded her too as a piece of mere trash, and took the mighty pen of fate into their own hands. She pleaded and pleaded but alas, the tyrant remained the merciless creature that he was written to be.
