The thread around my Throat

I was 11. They tied a thread around my throat.
Why? I never asked. It’s still there.
I liked it; it was the symbol of the elites.
I change it when it gets dirty, but it keeps getting dirty every time.
Something never let's it be clean forever.
I don’t know what it is, but there’s something.
I grew; my throat grew too, constricted with the thread.
The diameter was defined, the borders marked, the realms beyond were impervious.
Because I never asked why they tied the thread around my throat.
I only knew I was elite.

They gave me a stone.
I kept above my books, it was divine.
Why? I never asked. It’s still there.
I hit my head with it and painted it with saffron.
They said I will prosper, blessed by the divine.
I kept looking at it whole day, blessed I was.
All my miseries flew away, so did the time.

But one fine day I fell ill, it was the devil’s plan.
The Evil spirit hurts the blessed most.
So they took me to a priest, and hymns were chant.
Beads around my waist hangs now, it keeps the Devil away.
Why? I never asked. It’s still there.
It keeps the Devil away.

I trust. Trust is a good thing, it keeps doubts away.
Doubts kill time, let’s believe what’s there.
Time is precious, questioning the trust is useless.
Anything that takes time is useless, because Time is precious.
Why? I won’t ask, because asking is time waste.
So I Trust and keep my doubts away.

And once you learn to trust, the real learning begins.
They teach you how not to talk, they teach you how not to behave.
They teach you the ethics and how not to live.
What’s not good and evil, what’s not right and wrong.
But who defined it?
I won’t ask, because asking is time waste.
So I became a learned man.

It’s the right of a learned man to choose his ruler.
A true citizen I was and I gave them the mandate to rule me.
The ruler holds the Society together, he makes the rules.
Rules are required, without rules humans become animals.
Why? I don’t know; it’s that way.
I am just a true citizen.

I was 21. It’s time to be a real man.
Real man is one who makes real money.
Coins are the only things that you need to live.
It gets you bread and bed.
Coins alone make you real man.
Why? I don’t know; they do it that way.
So I became a real man.

I still have the thread around my throat.
I am 41. And my son’s 11.
I am tying the thread around his throat.
He is elite.
I will make him a real man.
A man who is blessed and learned.
Who trusts!
So I am tying the thread around his throat.
He is 11.