Other Lives Poem by Ananta Madhavan

We accept our failure, sometimes with resentment,
Blaming our luck, our stars or ‘these' times. We shun
Accepting our own mistakes or ineptitude,
Incompetence, our follies and vices, such as
Our preference for idleness, the recumbent pose.
We did not crave to be overlords, but surely, surely,
We were not born to be underlings, were we?

‘No matter', as a wit is supposed to have said,
When asked the philosophical query, ‘What is Mind? '
And when asked to explain, ‘What is matter then? '
He dismissed it, saying, ‘Never mind'.

I like to think that I don't care who wins,
Anyway it is not me. Let it be.
The world-life goes on and on
In cosmic time which is beyond Time.

Reminds me of a dope who asked,
‘What is Truth? ' and did not wait for an answer.

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