Surrounded by these walls
With the window shut;
I’m sitting enclosed
Thinking about the theory of loopholes.
These sheltered beams
Crossing over the walls
Are turning my dull thoughts
To ponder upon these loopholes.
Some trespassing through the wall,
Among and upon the cemented bricks.
Others, between the ribs and abdomen
Like infinity stacked upon one another.
These holes have sucked all my intelligent and intuitive guesses.
But I figured out that heat, intensity and surface area are its directly proportional causes.
There’s hope as 44’C still festers outside, stretching wide upon the crop fields.
Yet most of us cannot fix these though the GDP has since increased.
Capsicum, lemon and dry fruits are a luxury here.
When men and women work equally upon these fields
I perspire abundantly, thinking and formulating
A hypothesis indoors.
“It’ll rain certainly in two days”, he said hopelessly.
“At least we’ll have something to drink”, consequently
The rest will sink which excited my reasoning wonder:
Whether it happened due to seepage or heat.
Our brothers and sisters are still dependent
Upon the closed figures of Banks, Ration shops and the saintly government.
Nobody stays down and voices break out while waiting in never-ending queues.
As sound is inversely proportional, these institutions have holes on the outside.
There’s still hope that rain will fall and reduce the heat.
Nothing will stay quite then and our sound will break their heels.
Eureka! Eureka! (I think I’ve got it all);
Or perhaps, there is still more to know in the theory of loopholes.