What do you do when you wake up today?
Do you look under the bed for hidden clowns?
Or skip your slippers, they’ve been glued down,
’tis the day of the fool, when fools go to town.
You’ll be checking everything to be doubly sure,
Wishing to have ignorance, to endure,
But it’s the day of the fool, not the day of the wishes,
When everything comes true in a couple of swishes
But isn’t it ideally foolhardy enough,
To wait for pretty much impossible stuff,
And even if all of it does come true,
Will you just walk back, and just be you?
Sadly, a fool doesn’t know any better,
He’s a well wisher, not a go getter,
He ends up wishing for things he’s not getting,
And then seethes, demanding a just bloodletting,
Can you really blame the poor guy?
Can you, after you’ve seen him cry?
Waiting to find someone, behind the curtains,
Pulling the strings of life, a prank, he’s certain.
Expecting someone to burst into laughs,
Declaring all of it an elaborate bluff,
The decisions he made, undone, untrue,
And this time, he’d get to see it through,
But they don’t call it the fool’s day for nothin’,
So as the alarm clock wakes with a persistent buzzing,
Fall off the slippers, let the clowns scream,
While you live your perfect, utopian dream
Arnab Mukherjee 