There’s a spectre that haunts me–
the spectre of time.
It appears in silhouettes
of schedules and deadlines.
I deal with it in funny ways
Making charts called timetables
Which rarely serve their purpose
So I make to-do lists
And they do work out
Just a little better.
But the haunting never stops
It just increases and decreases
Depending on scary words
Like productivity and procrastination.
I don’t like the word ‘lazy’
Because often when my mind
Becomes blank and expressionless,
or too occupied and restless,
When post-its and planners
Seem more hollow than exciting
‘Lazy’ is what they call me then.
I want to learn stuff
About the universe and the atom,
about time and its marvels.
But time itself haunts me
Wearing the cloak of ranks and grades
The favouritism of the fastest,
and disregard for individual pace.
I know the spectre will never go away
Because at the end while I think
Of a good conclusion to this poem
All I can really think of is–
I might just be lazy after all.
Zubia Nasir is an avid reader and listener of everything that makes sense.