I woke up as a simple and humble bolt,
To be either used, or left to rust.
My life could’ve just come to a halt,
And my hopes, fused into the dust.
But then came the ray of light,
When I was held strong by a screw.
It was initially a little hard and tight.
But, perhaps the engineer was doing what she knew.
I swear I did cry, scream and shout,
Wishing to return to my comfortable box, where I was born.
Yet you struggled day in and day out.
You took care of me and silenced my moans.
Thirteen years have, thus, passed by;
But your work goes on.
You have taught me to aim high,
Until the work of completing the machine is done.
And now that you’ve built it, and tired yourself much,
It’s my job to make you proud.
I shall take your example, and help make more of such,
So that we may stand a chance in the crowd.
You converted me from a minor bolt to what I am now!
People around me are all in loud cheers,
“Wow! Brilliant! But how?”
I reply, “They’re my living idols, better known as ‘Teachers’…”
-Arka Prabha Paul, XII C
