At the old market place, there is a locksmith
The slipshod ancient road leads to his shop
In the business of repairing locks and making keys
For almost half a century, a dedicated soul
Right from a tender age he picked up the skills
Accompanying his father, to learn the tricks of the trade
Slowly he became adept at repairing the locks
Like a wizard, replicating the keys, for those have lost it
His name spread quite afar, for people sought his help
In times of trouble, as they were locked out of homes and shops
He knew the heart of each and every lock
Reviving at the touch of his dexterous hands
As if he used to command the locks to open at his will
Like a ring master at the circus
Each and every key combination were memorized by him
Recalling them like a mathematical genius
With the permutation and combinations, he found the magic numbers
He wielded the keys like the archer’s precision
Always hitting the bulls-eye
He knew each and every house in the town
For, over the years, everyone had come to him for help
He was the only one who knew the key to open any lock





© Amitav (Radiance)