Once I met a sage,
Ripened with age,
“What is freedom?” I asked.
He simply laughed.

“It’s a word,” he said, “maybe a feeling at best,
That fills mankind with emotions of zest.
And it’s precious, for so many have sought;
Yet, all it is is an unparalleled paradox.

For some, it’s a revolution fought,
For some, hope for the have-nots.
Sometimes it’s the expression of a voice,
Sometimes the rationale behind a random choice.

Sometimes it reads ‘Do not knock’,
Sometimes it’s just sitting by the docks,
Sometimes it’s the pavement outside the prison gate,
Sometimes the flower that springs from hate.

But it collapses when you’re caught,
And it seizes to be when you’re bought.
It may prevail just before treason,
And sometimes all it is is a brief period of reason.

Then again, some claim freedom is fragile like glass,
You press hard and it fails to last.
Some claim freedom is Restrain –
You can hold it only if you can refrain.

Or, as Rousseau said, ‘Man is born free, but is always in chains,’
Likewise, I think your quest will leave you no gains.
I suggest you free yourself from this task,
Because if Freedom existed why would you ask?”

Poem by Vikram Bhatti