“Your words repeat, you use similar rhymes, review your work, read before you write!”
And what did I do? I was all low, sat and cried!
Cried because my only work was criticized, something for which I held pride
I went back and opened my books, read and re-read
I marked too many words in them, marked with blue, green and red.
But while marking, my tears stopped tripping, on a page…
Where I found pictures of loved ones holding me tight in little age
My smile broadened every minute second
The thought of ‘reviewing’ vanished then, rather it wasn’t even reckoned.
Because I understood then, the power that REPETITION had
It did not subtract or divide, but simply multiplied, it did add.
No, I ain’t teaching any sort of math here…
But this formula of life was simple to me now. It became clear.
The repetition of kisses on my forehead that mom kept gifting
I kept rising higher through it, higher I kept lifting.
The repetition of protection in my brother’s arms
Taught me how to live courageously, without weapons; without arms.
The love of my father, the care of my sister
Kept me away from fears, away from the dripping eyes of that Mister.
Their love was nothing but repetition of little things
Which turned stronger just by continuation and now they were big things.
I perceived, repetition wasn’t bad rather it was rehearsal
Repetition was a truth, so universal.
Repeating mistakes makes us aware that they are mistakes
Until then who has the nerve for re-takes?
I learn words, when I repeat
Rhymes can be few, but thoughts I won’t cheat.
My work is vivid and sorted today
Because I’m learning something new everyday.
I’ll write you read, try reading just more than words this time
I’m sure you’ll find more meaning than just rhyme!