The Key to the ChestA Poem by The ArKThis year's last poem from me.The Key to the Chest
This will be the last poem that's gonna originate from the - ball point tip of my pen this year. My pen will be idle for a while.
In fact, this is not a poem at all. This is the key to the padlock- I'm using to lock the chest- of my imagination.
I know I can't keep it closed too long. I couldn't find the 'stop' button. But I can still fix the 'pause' button. At least for a while.
From this day onwards, for a year I should constrict my eyes to the things that can help me in the study, not that things I've to learn from.
I should not see the angels and beasts which the foamy clouds make in the sky. But I should study that the scattering of light is the reason for its foamy white colour.
I should not marvel at the beauty of the seven coloured rainbows, but study 'Total Internal Reflection' causes it.
I must not enjoy the beauty of the sunset. But study that the red light has the greatest wavelength among the colours in the visible region of Electro Magnetic spectra.
The sun should be nothing more than a distant celestial object with angular magnitude 0.5 degrees and stellar magnitude around minus 27.
Waterfalls must only be a turbulent flow- of water to me, with the Reynold's number > 2000. I'm restricted to wonder why the aircraft fly in the air. I'm only allowed to be thorough with the Bernoulli's principle and it's derivation.
I should only care what's in the textbook. Anything out of it- irrelevant. But I'm okay with that. I can get used to it.
Here, take the key to my chest, and only return it when I ask you after a whole year.
What if the padlock gets so rusted so that I can never open my chest again...........?
© 2014 The ArKAuthor's Note
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StatsAuthorThe ArKThrissur, Kerala, IndiaAboutI believe complex thoughts can be conveyed through simple words. I write simple, but trying to mean a lot. And I'm 24. more..Writing
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