Learned Men

The windows of the class are opened wide. But closed shut are those of our minds. These learned men parade in like politicians. Promising light in our lives. And you have to give it to them. They do try really hard to convince us. But like the last glimmer before an eclipse, they come. And plaster shut our mental doors and windows.

The class is bright with artificial lights. But dulled by mediocrity are our minds. In reality, the room is pitch black. And like two independent solar systems, we both revolve around our suns. For them, it is the belief that teaching is going on. And for us, it is our ignorance.

The mountains around us are shrouded in mist. But a stroke of wind like a wizard, dispels the fog. And we, along with the learned men sit in class, playing these charades in complete fog. Both, eyes on the clock hand, waiting for the bell to dispel ours.

Like a dewdrop on a leaf, our destinies are entwined, and every morning we are together again. The routine has gripped us now. And questions like 'what', 'why' have ceased to blip on the screens of our minds. For this is the way things have gone on, and it is the way they will continue to.

And at the end of this strenuous journey, Alas! A new army of learned men march on this world!