To have left school,
To do free a new choice
From all acts unprescribed,
The first smoke and drink,
Or dope,
That damned undammed lust
Or stoic and stupid virtue
Or love's joyous flow.
New places, new people,
Graduation, the first job,
And last, or first of many,
Matrimony's vows taken,
Kept, repealed, or repeated,
Or the closet's brave exit,
Or the solitary path,
Upbringing child or children,
Fresh innocence, joy, at home,
Or quiet, none small or young.
On work's ladder - machinations,
Upward and onward ho,
Balding head, grey hair,
Soft and spreading girth,
Time passes, some choices
Are the body's: the heart's
Or kidney's or knee's cry for aid.
Trudge to the pavilion at dusk,
The lit and familiar home
That guards darker days hence.
The clock's hands turn faster
With every passing year.
Was all these it about?
To have left school,
Fifty years ago.
Sanjib Basu 