On life and its vagaries

Dominicus is sure waning

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Not everything is lucid in life is it? It can’t be, if so,  then we lose the zest to learn them.  Yet one can’t be like a dull witted and slow typist with no imagination, just printing the words as they come before her (him if you want).  It is crippling to be so. I don’t deny that some people do need some sort of a crutch to get through the difficult terrains in life. They are naturally crippled and one can only feel sorry for them. One only wishes well for them and they need assistance. Strangely   I have also seen perfect thicko’s gaping at each other through glass partitions and smirking too, their minds completely vacant all the time… These guys unfortunately imagine themselves to be the cream of life. There lies the paradox. No one can blame these too since even the smallest of us is the emperors of their own lives.


But what about the few informed dudes out there? They can’t normally ‘suffer’ anybody other than themselves. I can outline to you an example of an informed guy (could be male or female). They may have no answers to anything worth asking about but are sure of their inalienable right to appear late anywhere where they should be early. They are the veritable gods to themselves and their set. They assert themselves by leaving early too.  If you haven’t noticed it yet, take a look around.


I mean they could go berserk if they can’t do such things. Its the statistics of life.

Anyway I believe that no creature is intentionally harmed during the making of the following lines!

All this  of course is in pure fun! 

 Dominicus is sure waning


A distant rumble

Thunder-like, and deep within

Has just emanated off our Dominicus

Yet it still stumbles along the sky

Like it has plans of another day



 Who else knows to plan well-

Than our Dominicus? It is the plan itself-

And the blueprint of our lives

Yet it has grown yellow with dread

And has failed to mellow



What ails the Dominicus? Nobody knows

Is it some old disease coming back?

Or is it just ennui, of having just to

Shine and do nothing else?



Its nature is to forgive all-

For offending it, even if its hurt-

Within, and wants to cry.

But of late it has taken to flaring up

Just like that, nobody knows why!



Oh Dominicus, do desist, be cool

Don’t show off your temper, for

You might burst like the poor frog

In the sad little old wives tale.

Even dams burst, you might too.


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