MUSED
BellaOnline Literary Review
Upset Parrot by Maurice Schulman

Poetry


I Rote, I Learnt?

Pravin Nair

"Repeat after me"
my teacher told me,
"Grass is green, sky is blue"
I asked him "who told this to you?"
"My teacher", said he,
"and who in turn, told him?", asked me,
"Maybe his teacher?", he hesitantly replied,
in it, half a question and many doubts, deployed.

So off I went, to meet generations of teachers,
talking to each, one by one,
braving the rains, sweating in the sun,
asking the living, about green grass and blue sky,
looking at the buried dead, for answers to my why;
in some cases, going to the very first teachers,
but all I got was: letís not mess with the colours.

"Things should stay,
as far as possible, the same way.
Colours have already been assigned",
they said, their shoulders shrugged and resigned.

I then wrote in my essay,
the only sensible one, to this day,
"Grass is green and sky is blue,
is what all teachers agree to,
Grass could be greener
but sky can never be bluer."

And thus, therefore, hence,
I remain colored, ever since.

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