The Punching Bag Poem by Savita Tyagi

In quiet hours of rest
An image of punching bag flashes through my mind.
A subtle message it sends!

We are the punching bag for life!
Specially when we are old,
With worn out bodies and mind,
This wicked man called ‘Bad News' hits us from all sides!

Sickness, death, injury,
Pain and suffering!
He has all these punches in his bag to flung!

Even when one is well and healthy,
Happy and cheerful,
Suffering of friends and family
Brings sadness to heart.

Some universal connection of oneness
Makes their pain our pain.
Deprivation of love and laughter that we enjoyed with our peers
Creates a vacuum.
However momentary or long lasting the vacuum may be
At that vulnerable moment we are life's punching bag!

Old and worn out!
Still moving! Shaking! Enduring!

One wonders if the punching bag is made of quiet grace
Or it screams silently!
A miraculous ear or compassionate heart is needed to hear it.
But even in its silence it is enough to tear us apart.

Then one day the owner decides to replace it!
A New bag made of strong, sturdy and shining leather!
Replacement brings new life to gym
It remains an exciting place for new comers!
Such is life!

Savita Tyagi
2.26.2026