Generation Z Poem by SANDIP GOSWAMI

Generation Z is my child—our future.
I know them completely,
and yet I do not know them at all.
How strange, isn't it?

When they sleep, they do not wish to wake;
when they are awake, they do not wish to sleep.
Though they eat everything,
they have never learned
to snatch from others
or even to share with others.
How strange, isn't it?

They become doctors, engineers, scientists,
teachers, professors—so many things.
Yet they never let
the wandering minstrel,
the mystic within,
the music,
or the solitude of their hearts
fade away.
How strange, isn't it?

They never longed for marches,
protests, or blockades.
Yet they were driven to the streets,
and they never forgot
to raise their flaming torches.

They never sought power,
nor did they crave the throne.
With the dream of a radical transformation,
they are shaping a new tomorrow.
How strange, isn't it?