Dear Eugene, Anyone who thinks there's genuine hope in this world hasn't gotten oneself a teenager. Or two. Is it really that bad, being a parent of teenagers? Worse than my parents had had it, I say, for sure. I kinda regret not giving my parents a run for their money and now can't even claim solace on the basis of karma. But I feel for the teenagers. Here I have words to make sense of my share of suffering, words that I can call my own and have taken years and tears to claim. How about them? They want to be themselves, but in doing so must be like everyone else. I am sure a case can be made that many of us never really grow out of our adolescence, but still the intensity of such contradiction, self-betrayal, finds no healthy language during teen years to modulate itself, especially when the lexicon and syntax of the quest is gladly and generously supplied by adults who know how to exploit the unhealth. Mobile phone is the worse invention s...
ReplyDeleteA leaf unfurls, a page unscrolls
Green sheath of promise
In diaries foretold
Vein on branched sinew
Strikes a day, taunts the night
Lean is Spring without dew
Hands from throne to clay
Know no strangers or bounds
In holes they clasp to pray