Glued to our screens,

What is time?

For our hundred year old peers,

Nothing less than God we are.


Moving faster than air on land,

And beating the limits of land by air;

We, humans, have come a long long way.


Krita Yuga to Kali Yuga,

We may have excelled diversely;

But the shrewd path, made us shed;

Our armour of kindness, love; humanity.


Maybe in some parallel universe,

Our epics were written differently.

Where Valmiki wrote Sita as a warrior,

Like Durga, not as a damsel in distress.


A cosmos in which Karna,

Wouldn’t be an outcast, for

Kunti’s fear of societal acceptance.

Where Ekalavya’s dethroned thumb,

Wasn’t caused by menial casteism.

Radhe-Krishna, the epitome of eternal love,

Never bound by a curse.


Maybe in that alternate space,

Love wouldn’t be a snappable thread

Kindness wouldn’t be a preference,

And fraternity an unquestionable concept.


For you see, if we are Gods of that time;

We are just birthing ignorance.

Oceans of knowledge at our behest,

Yet, known to meagre.


There, in that world,

The past doesn’t weigh people down,

Rather, the destiny forges the once.


Lavanya Agrawal, Delhi Public School, Ranchi


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