The Seeker

                    THE
                    DEDICATION
                         OF THIS POEM
                    IS SPLIT
               SEVEN WAYS:
          TO VAIBHAV,
               TO CFMW,
                    TO J K ROWLING,
                         TO KRITI KUMAR,
                              TO AAKRITI,
                         TO SIDDHARTH MALL,
                    AND TO GLOBAL MBA,
               FOR THEY HAVE
                    GUIDED
                         ME
                              TO BE
                         THE
                    SEEKER

The Seeker

He watches the game from afar, high above

Watching; never interfering

He’s amused, by the constant chaos which goes around him

Bludgers, trying to hit him

Players, struggling to throw that one Quaffle into the opposing post

He watches, without participating

for his goals are not in the mayhem

Amused he may be, but he cannot watch for too long

he needs an overview, and so he keeps an eye out

on everything which goes around him

Silently; he is a good listener

Yet, not caring about any of it

He seeks something

something, which is a part of the game

something, bigger than it

He seeks the one small piece of gold

which can change the game around

No one helps him; no one keeps an eye out

being busy in their own endeavors

 

So all alone he watches. Waiting

For that one tiny spark of gold

which when he sees he lunges towards

desperate to reach it, before it fades from his eyes

Eager, before someone else scares it away

Trying to get to it as fast as he can

He watches, waits, seeks

He is the seeker

High above, in the clouds

Waiting for the magic to happen

He catches the snitch

And the game ends

Or, does it begin?