By Swastika De
Yes, loneliness — repossessing the self’s cavitation
By transcendence of individuation.
To acknowledge this metaphysically,
It took me twenty long years, nearly.
Well, sitting in the corner, groaning and sobbing,
Just to unknowingly entertain those mates who were bullying.
To notice is that my heartbreak was intense,
Nevertheless, my passion to champion the world was immense.
Challenging the unscrupulous teacher — Mrs. X —
Induced in me the utmost apprehension to vex.
Earlier, I was subdued by Mr. Y — a pedophile,
But now, I subdue Mr. Y, for his act was vile.
Life isn't made of rose beds, as anonymously acclaimed.
I call myself to be the Moses that I really don’t pretend—
To subvert all the age-old conventionality,
To promote the notion of multiperspectivity.
Year-long hard work, dedication, and conviction paid off—
My national administrative stature is pulled off.
Being an Indian Civil Servant is not only what I opt for,
But a genuine self of my sublimity — the pursuit is for.