Treasure Island

Pradip Chattopadhyay

(28.01.1961 / Kolkata)

Cocooned


To all music morons
Glued to their earphones
The look-alike clones
Sunk in the dune of tunes
In the crowded buses
In public places
With drooping eyes like a yogi
Cracking heads and bursting ears
Thinking it the only escape
Salvation’s gateway
Balm for boredom
Pleasure’s pinnacle,
Don’t just fritter away
The one chance to be here
For a brief while
And leave with a blind existence
And a blasted hearing,
And before it’s late
Redraw your fate
Take off the headset
Open the yogic eyes
And in the yogi’s spirit
Give the world a good look
Recreate in her beauties
Make her melody your pastime
Her rhythm your heart’s rhyme,
So you don’t regret
When your time comes along
That you never could tell a bird from her song!

Submitted: Wednesday, August 28, 2013
Edited: Wednesday, August 28, 2013

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  • Kevin Patrick (8/29/2013 4:51:00 PM)

    As someone who enjoys their I Pod in crowded residential areas I find the sound of music a place of solace from the hectic world of the urban grind, However in the quite places where I can hear the frogs crock rhymes, and the crickets chirp and the night time sing, I will turn off my machine and listen to the only song that really matters nature
    But if your on a bus, it provides peace! (Report) Reply

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