Sunday, June 06, 2004
The X Factor
I have an appointment with God of death.
Know it is certain, but know not when.
This is one appointment I can’t cancel
Come what may when the call comes through.
Can’t tell my secretary to put Him on hold
Saying “I’m busy in a meeting for the next hour”.
Neither can I complete my power lunch with
The visitor from abroad at the posh restaurant.
He means business. I mean, God of Death!
His meter does not stop nor tolerate delay.
Can’t even kiss my sweet daughter at the
Dining table as He gently nudges me out.
No way, he can tolerate delay on any count.
If it’s time to go, you better go.
It’s unusual that I can’t fix my own
Appointment with Him. It’s He who fixes!
‘Take it or leave it’ is perhaps his style.
Who the hell is He to decide my exit?
Child, my father told before his own exit,
The appointment is fixed the day you were born.
I never knew of it. Neither you will know.
But it’s there that we cannot decipher.
The Doctor who wrote your birth certificate
Almost saw the writing on the wall, but seldom read.
As the nurse cut the umbilical cord linking you with
Mother saw the same. But did not understand.
Every night I sit at desk to write X minus one day
On a piece of paper and repeat the exercise daily.
Till I know the value of X, this meaningless exercise
Will continue, I tell myself. Mystery is it not?
Know of any mathematics genius who can solve this
Puzzle once for all to relieve me from tension?
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