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If wishes were horses...

If wishes were horses, beggars would ride.
If turnips were watches, I'd wear one by my side.
If "if's" and "and's" were pots and pans,
There'd be no work for tinkers' hands.

Wishes belong frightfully to nursery rhymes. The rhymist knows that wishes are granted only in fairy tales. Real life is about turnips and heartburns. 

When I was young, I longed to be a writer. Not an ordinary one. A great writer. Another Shakespeare. Or a Bernard Shaw, at least. Life mocked at that and taught me great lessons and my wishes fell by the wayside and died with subdued whimpers.

For some reason that's beyond my understanding, I never had simple wishes like good people. For example, the wish to become a doctor or an engineer never crossed the threshold of my ambition's horizon. The career which I pursued and has continued all my life descended on me rather accidentally, quite like a wayward meteor hitting an unsuspecting planet. I'm completing three-and-a-half decades of teaching. And the truth is I had never imagined myself as a teacher. 

Your wish doesn't matter much, it seems. Life has its own ways. Maybe, I was an aberrant meteor myself, one which lost its orbit long ago and started hurtling along aimlessly in the endless cosmos. Now, like the philandering Marvell, I hear at my back time's winged chariot hurrying near. The object of my pursuit is not any coy mistress, however. It is some place somewhere. Some place that beckons me with a siren's song. A journey is in the offing. The wish gallops in my consciousness like a restless horse.

PS. Written for Indispire Edition 314: 

I wish. We all wish. What's that wish? #WishMine



Comments

  1. JACOB POOTHULLILMarch 1, 2020 at 12:27 PM

    Weldon keep up. I am Jacob Poothullil from Ernakulam.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Saibal BarmanApril 24, 2020 at 2:29 PM

    I loved the transition of thoughts through this small piece of writing....the riders to the sea might not love the waves embracing the yacht in any troubled night, yet their relationship evolved through an accidental tryst to moonlit vastness of a tranquil sea....time defines the good, bad or ugly....life seems to me to be a small prey in the hand of its passionless companion, who never deserts...wishes are the clouds ginned over the sky...it connects the soul only in that way....the richness in your expressions has liberated me...of my feeble thoughts....nothing to agree or contradict to whatever you have treasured through your own wisdom, experience and journey....and the life.
    My regards

    ReplyDelete
  3. UnknownJune 6, 2020 at 11:44 AM

    Love to read it, Waiting For More new Update and I Already Read your Recent Post its Great Thanks.
    ba time table

    ReplyDelete

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