Aah! It is indeed a quaint addiction,

A lot of love and a little friction,

A melancholic malediction,

But with each passing day it grows – this conviction –

That I cannot live without the hope

That I may embrace her once again.


It is to this weakness that I am beholden

It is this fair maiden whose scores

Entice me,

Reduce me,

To a helpless state where

I do as I am told

By my own inner being

By My self

By My conscience

My mind and its faculties which it itself cannot fathom.

I am reduced.

To a humble spectator of its glorious expression

On stage – do not judge me.

Do not judge me

I am helpless –

I cannot help but perform

On stage.


Let me bask in their love for just a minute more

Just let me soak it in once again I beseech you –

Only this I implore.

‘Twas truly a poet who once said “All the world’s a stage”

And his lies I readily believed.

But it was ere I experienced their love,

Felt them clamouring for me.

(V S Vaidyanathan is an IIMACTS member who sometimes poses as a quizzer. He still cannot believe he gets away with it. He wrote this during a particularly pleasant evening walk to the Gurudwara crossroads.)


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