End is Yet to be Said: An Ode to the Journey

Sometimes I like to pen down my ideas, my emotions and my confusions in words that rhyme. An year ago, I wrote down, as an exercise, what is it that defines me. I realised that we all are products of different things. Some share the credit to their life with family, some with hard work and some with their challenges. I share it with the stories that I have met in form of people from different communities and backgrounds. They have shaped the human in me. My life, like all of you, is a journey.

At home, the talkative one,

Telling stories untold.

Dad challenging, “Be silent”,

Smirk and shrug, “No, I won't”.

College theories to practice,

Patriarchy was debate.

Then attend lectures by P.Sainath,

And romance with a silent slate.

Sitting in boat in Khagaria, Bihar,

Wondering where I dared to reach.

Listening intently to health-workers,

What more life had to teach?

In Odisha, radio jockey records messages,

Volunteering while struggling for food.

Doing his bit, for all,

Learning by doing is my mood.

Sleeping below stars in Madurai, Tamil Nadu,

No power in bulbs I see.

Shining light within community,

Is wisdom, enough for me.

Cannot comprehend children chatter in Gujarati,

But their rough hands showcase enough.

Dropped out of school to bring home food,

Education vs hunger, a development bluff?.

Sinhalese women are encouraging,

Building capacities of communities around.

They say money isn’t empowerment, skills are,

A moment, so profound!

I thank around for my learning curve,

Silence and communication balance along.

Field chatter beckons to me soon,

Shiny offices don’t always rhyme my song.

Education, Experiences and Energies Untapped,

The investment on which I have fed.

Money has been a means to reach my goals,

End is yet to be said.