Who cares?
What the bird sings,
Who cares?
What the trees say.
Who cares?
Why the leaves fall,
Who cares?
Why the flower dies.
Who cares?
When the clouds leave,
Then who cares?
If the poet cries...
- Ujjwal Chaturvedi
I live in village with my maternal grand parents. We have a little garden right in front of our house. Every morning I would wake up excited, today I will stay outside, sit near trees and do something. While doing all this for months I noticed different flowers blooming and dying, insects of all kinds and butterflies of different species. I was overwhelmed by the beauty of it all. I would try to share it with my parents and grand parents but those things were not as exciting for them as they were for me. I am not a big social guy so I only knew 1-2 boys in my village and they didn't care for these tiny things. I would see clouds moving right over our heads and I would feel awesome seeing them slowly leave. The poem is trying to capture how world has grown so insensitive, if people missed these miracles of nature happening everyday then how would they notice the sadness of other human being. The poet here represents of course, me. When days were heavy and I wanted to be heard and needed some ears to pour my heart out, I had no one. The poem is a reminder that it's the same world that chooses to ignore magic of nature everyday which is visible, so how will it notice someone's invisible pain.
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