The Silent Worth of Coins

Dr Ranbir Laishram
Once, I carried
a ten-paise coin
to my lower primary school.
At half-time,
thirsty and hungry,
I drank from the cool water
of the community pond,
and filled my small belly
with treats bought
by that shining coin.

At times it slipped
through the hole
in my worn-out half-pant pocket—
a tiny tragedy
I held for hours
inside my young heart.

Years later,
wandering the mainland,
I learned the power of coins.
Every shopkeeper counted,
even the small 25 paise coin,
returning change with care.

When I returned home,
my bag grew heavy
with saved coins.
Once treasured,
they now lie untouched
in my travel suitcase—
silent relics of worth.
Only in rituals
do they gleam again,
stepping briefly
into limelight.

In my home-town
the invaluable coins become
value-less in every market.
No vendor takes them,
no shopkeeper cares.

And I wonder—
am I still in my own country,
or has the land shifted beneath me?
How long must I hold them—
these invaluable,
yet priceless coins—
while time and place
speak their quiet verdict?