How do I even begin to explain
why I hate maths?
It’s not about numbers —
not really.
It’s about what they mean.
“Don’t sleep more than six hours.”
“Study twelve to fourteen.”
“Don’t waste ten minutes in the bathroom.”
“Do you know how much we’ve spent on you?”
“Fifteen lakhs,
and you still can’t focus?”
My whole life —
a calculator.
My dreams, divided by duty.
My worth, measured in marks.
My hours, multiplied by guilt.
And I —
I just… hate numbers.
I hate maths.
“How much time do we have left?”
“How many marks did you score?”
“How many more days before you leave?”
And I think —
what if clocks didn’t exist?
What if calendars didn’t chase us,
numbers didn’t label us,
and time —
just was?
But still,
I keep the calendar close.
To count the days
till I can stop counting.
So tell me —
how would I ever explain
to someone
why I so
hate
maths?
-
Author:
Meera Mere (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: October 17th, 2025 09:18
- Category: Sad
- Views: 10
- Users favorite of this poem: Meera Mere
Offline)
Comments2
I think you just did and in such a clear way. Nicely said numbers can be a bane.
They actually are for most...
I myself love maths, for most Friday and Saturday nights I get pi eyed squared.
This usually results in me going home in all sorts of angles, finally resulting in a horizontal submission.
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