By Charu Shanker
I was born a daydreamer
Lazy, sloppy, uncool.
Chilling in backyard, scribbling poems on my textbooks
Having opinion on things, that a kid should ignore
I always thought, I was born different
Well! Everyone else thought I was a fool
I still sometimes contemplate was I?
Was I a fool who wasted time?
Thinking about things that then didn’t matter
Could I have done any better ?
Or I just did fine.
Years passed, the opinions mattered more
More to an extent, I lost what was mine
My illusion of being different
My yearning of standing out
What creeped in, was a sense of feeling belonged.
Normal, happy and “cool”
But, then I met others too
Who thought they were different and stood their ground
Didn't care about the disapproving gaze
Didn’t care, if there was anyone around.
I wondered did I gave up too soon?
Or I just became a realist with time.
My childhood it seems, was on a different planet
A planet where time moved too slow
I did nothing some days, all day long
Had dream filled sleep and life moved along
I now try to squeeze in, the most from an hour.
Always do cooking with podcasts on
Crackling of spices, I hear no more
I read my news on toilet seats
Newspaper with coffee, not an option anymore
I dance for my cardio, I walk taking calls
Mental checklist gets updated during travel time
Travel time, where I once enjoyed imagining stuff
Being hero of my stories, solving imaginary crime
I choose my hobbies carefully these days
Thinking what’s in it for me to gain or lose
Investing time with subpar results
Surely, troubles me to the core.
I once used to watch, whatever was on TV
Now, watching movie isn’t a easy task
Browsing through the genres ,sorting by rating
Skimming through reviews & keep everyone waiting
Waiting and waiting till the interest is lost.
Ads skipped, Opening credits on 2x speed
I wonder what happened to teenage me
Who eagerly waited for ad-filled shows
Broadcasted primetime
I don’t know if its right or wrong
I don’t even know, if there is a way to find
All I know is what I have become
And rest I shall leave for you to determine
I have become a stack of half read books
A list of half-viewed shows
Collection of abandoned hobbies
Bunch of unfinished art
Chain of incomplete thoughts
Abode of an unsatiated heart
And a constantly anxious mind.
That hops from one thing to another
To make the most of time.
On societal parameters, I am doing well
I can see the approval in their eyes
Convinced myself, I didn’t have it after all
What it takes to follow your guts.
It was best for me to try and fit in
And get stuck in the daily rut
Just sometimes when I am all by myself
This questions boggles my mind
What if, I had chosen a different path?
Would I be any happier or satisfied?
Hope by the time I find answer to this
I haven't run out of my time.