Literary Yard

Search for meaning

By: Debleena Majumdar


The quarterly butterfly meet
Has on its agenda,
The Judgement day
For the wayward way
Of the unsocial butterfly.

“Aha” says the Butterfly Head
Stroking his shiny wings
“Present the facts, pray
What do the social stats say?
What has she been upto now?”

“The Sales report says she has
Missed her monthly target.
A mere 400 likes and 850 views.”
“Wait a minute, that’s old news”
A few millenials have new points.

“We hear she is most irregular
In nurturing and sharing her posts.”
“Counting likes makes her dizzy.”
“That’s downright crazy.”
Pipe up a chorus of fluttering wings

“But the worst crime of all
She has never taken a selfie,
She has an empty profile pic
After our masterclass? That’s sick”
The gasps grow as Butterfly Head says

“Brothers and sisters,
It is a sad day for our clan.
She has been most unsocial,
Bordering on antisocial,
She is banished from social life.”

Away from the “boredroom”, clouds
Wink at a butterfly and her book.
Drenched in sudden, summer showers,
She shares stories with purple flowers.
Just an usual day for the Unsocial butterfly.


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