Skip to main content

LIFE AND LIES #81 | The Weaver's Boy

 A long time ago,

In the flickering light of the lantern,

Sat the weaver’s boy.

While his father spun the strands,

He heard him say, "Son, keep studying,

And life will be plain sailing."

Young, naive and eager to please,

He set on a pursuit to prove his worth

By devouring every book he could find.

And with every page he consumed,

The light inside him

Burned brighter and brighter.


Ages and ages hence,

In the piercing light of the laptop,

Sat the weaver's boy,

Almost as old as his father was back then.

While his ancestors kept a vigil to honour him

For discontinuing their family occupation,

He struggled with the words

In order to weave them together.

Not everything seemed to be smooth sailing.

His father had become old and frail.

The light inside him

Burned dimmer every day.

***

Liked what you read? Leave a comment!

Painting - "Weaver at the Loom" by Vincent van Gogh.



Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

LIFE AND LIES #67 | The Shortest Story

Dedicated to a friend of mine who is no longer in this world. ********************************* A friend had died. Still, the world  Hadn't come to a stop. Perhaps, it should have. Because I gave my presentation Smiling from ear to ear. And later at night, I drank to my fill To honour him. Because life is too fricking short, But at times, Feels too bloody long. If you google 'Shortest Short Story' You'll get the following result: "For sale: Baby shoes, never worn." Popularly attributed to Ernest Hemingway. Ernest, I'm sorry  But I ended up writing  Something similar myself. "Hang in there, my friend. He did." I'm not proud of what I wrote.  It is what it is. "Who is this about," my friend asked after reading my poem. "He was my batchmate in school," I replied. "He committed suicide yesterday by hanging." "Why? What happened?" "Nobody knows. He had cut himself off from everyone." "Was he i...

LIFE AND LIES #77 | The English Teacher

When we are young, the world is full of possibilities. We can do anything, and become anything. We antagonise anyone who even hints at thinking otherwise about us. It's probably why most of us have a story to tell where the villain was a school teacher. Even I do. I don’t remember exactly how I ended up in the Headmaster’s cabin that day. All I remember is that back then I blamed my House Master for it. It wasn’t just me who had bunked the STD XII Pre-Board exams. There were many. But he made a scapegoat out of me. And the moment, I set foot inside the cabin, I received a big slap from the Headmaster. My ears rang. But that wasn’t the worst thing that happened that day. The Headmaster instructed him to call my father. Tell him to come or his son would be rusticated. I wasn’t a notorious student. I was good in my studies and had no disciplinary complaints against me. Had this incident not occurred, I would have completed my schooling in a few months with a clean record. My fat...

LIFE AND LIES #61 | The Summit Within

Dehradun to Sankri On an early morning, towards the end of March, I was sipping a cup of tea in Dehradun, surrounded by a bunch of strangers loading their backpacks on a traveller which was going to take us to Sankri, the starting point of Kedarkantha Trek. A thought struck me. Somewhere around this place, not so long ago, Ruskin Bond was racking his brains to come up with the name of a fictitious town. Subsequently, he came up with the name: Dehra, having spent his early adolescent days in Dehradun, the place which inspired many of his characters and stories. Ingenious, huh? I am struggling with a similar challenge. Let’s see what I come up with. I finished my tea. And soon we headed on our way. The first view of the mountains came when we were about to reach Mussourie. A smile spread across my face automatically in its unique way, like it happens when you meet an old friend after a long time. I was hoping to spot Cambridge Book Depot on the way, or even Ruskin Bond if I w...