A Mind That Sees... Poem by Manabendra Lal Bhuyan

They sit in their towers, untouched, unshaken,
Signatures sealing fates with careless hands.
Errors written in ink that we must erase,
Spending hours, days—our futures at stake.

A student waits, a worker pleads,
A family starves while power feeds.
Mistakes are made—no price to pay,
For those who rule can look away.

They go home with full pockets, empty hearts,
No weight of consequence, no sleepless nights.
We stand in lines, we plead, we wait,
For justice that never arrives on time.

If justice bends, does it not break?
If rules are twisted, what path do we take?
Is silence wisdom, is patience fate?
Or does fairness rot if left to wait?

A system built on hollow grace,
Where effort stumbles in the race.
Where some must climb, and some must soar,
And those below must beg for more.

If I had no conscience, would I thrive?
If I bulldozed through like them, would I rise?
Yet what do they go home to? A world of fear,
Where power rules, but warmth disappears.

And what of me? I return with struggle,
With questions that echo, with meaning that lingers.
I may not be sharp enough to fight them yet,
But my mind is a beauty, a world of its own.

A mind that weaves truth from chaos,
That sees what others refuse to see.
It does not bow, it does not fade,
It carves new paths where none should be.

The reward for my conscience is the depth of my soul,
Not wealth, not ease, but a mind that knows.
A mind that, shaped into action and fire,
Will rule not with force—but with the power to inspire.