Warning: Adulthood Ahead

Source: Google

“Do not meddle with that box. That machine in your Daddy’s study.”
Said my mother to me, an 8-year old brat- all curious and frolicky.
With big buttons and levers of many a colour,
That funny-looking machine never ceased to make my heart flutter.

One day, like for any other imp, curiosity got the better of me,
And I pressed the biggest button to hear the machine beep.
The next second, my head was spinning wildly and I wanted to go to Mommy,
But I was beyond the point of no return, my gut told me.

Silence! And the whirring stopped, followed by a thud.
I stepped out, unsettled and agitated
Into a house that looked alien and scary.
And lo, I saw a teenaged boy who looked a lot like me!

I wanted to talk to him in this land that reeked of grim,
But he didn’t seem to be aware of my presence, much to my chagrin.
His face looked distraught, his eyes lifeless,
But he was walking dazedly like he couldn’t care less.

Something about this vaguely familiar place is completely off and that’s scary.
So I turn around intending to hop onto that machine and go back to Mommy.
But the machine is missing, how cruel is fate!
And bam! Sounds from the adjacent room jolt me out of my trance-like state.

I head in the direction of the sound to see the boy breaking things in rage.
I also see two figures-they are Mom and Dad! Only, having considerably aged.
And then it hits me- that rebellious teen is me from the future,
And that I’m the reason for their eyes welling up.

He, (I’ve disowned him, yes) then storms out of the room,
Leaving my parents in a bottomless pit of gloom.
I cannot afford to hear their broken heartbeats
So I run after him, outside, onto the streets.

Only to find similar people whose faces are ridden with gloom
Walking, like hypnotized captives to their inevitable doom.
Cold, numb, each encased in his own tomb effigy,
If not for my remaining unscathed, I’d have taken it for a full-blown World War Z.

That reminds me of the demons in my bedtime stories,
And how Mommy would kiss me goodnight, saying, “Those monsters are not real, sweetie”.

But, looks like Mommy is wrong,
For the demons are human-like in more ways than I had imagined them to be
I can feel a lump growing in my throat as it hits me
That what I once feared as a kid is what I will grow up to be.

This poem was written in collaboration with Shreyas Thirumalai, Abhishek Ramachandran and Antony Terence.