The
sounds of a library in the afternoon. Only I am mentally moaning. Heads are buried
beneath books and reviewers. Lips moving soundlessly, turning legal definitions
into chants. Only the sound of my seatmates’ whispers. An ambulance wails past
the campus. This moment is really rotten. Everyone is reciting some legal
mantra and here I am, tormented by a thousand invisible gavels.
The
recorded discussion in my cellphone makes no sense—just a teacher’s voice
droning on. I will myself to stay calm. Abandoning my lessons, I swallow the
scream about to escape my throat. I think of a poem I’ve read before. Come away, O human child/ To the waters and
the wild.
I
smile at those lines. Green meadows stretch endlessly before me. I hear the
waterfall gushing powerfully. Faeries have fun in the distance, their laughter
musical. They show me a basket of fat red berries, their faces split by
mischievous grins.
I
snap out of my reverie as my classmate borrows my library card. The pounding in
my head returns. I am reminded of that medieval torture machine where the poor
convict’s body is stretched beyond limits till he dies a painful death. I take
my pencil and command my hand to open a notebook.
‘What
are you doing?’ my classmate asks, returning from the photocopy corner.
‘Just
writing.’
He
peers over my notebook with a quizzical look. ‘About what?’
I
try to ignore the gavels that turned into metal hammers. ‘Just thoughts.
Pounding in my head.’
He
nods. He goes on his way and I continue to write the ideas that flowed in. And
as I write each word, each line, each stanza, every heavy pounding seems to
cease for a moment.
