Hostage of Time is one of those poems of Bhatnagar which remind us of the meaninglessness of life and the things, how we have been held hostage. What is this world made of? What is that counts it here? What things are we? What shall we become one day? Have we thought it about? What are we doing and where are we going? What we see it is nothing and nothing is what see we.

We see things pass by, passing out of sight, turning into dust and the things too watch us die, but which is what none is able to say it. We are no philosophers in the absence of matter and others. Even if we are, what can we for matter and mass?

Events too keep happening, taking place as well as obliterating. We do not why do they happen, take place and why do they disintegrate and scatter in the end? Why do they get wiped off? What it in a subject? What it in an object? Staircases lead it to nowhere. Gestures may be noted, but cannot be explained.

Have we been kept hostage by time? Are we the prisoners of time? Who is for whom a philosopher? We do not know why are we here, what it our purpose, why do the things happen, take place?

What is this mass? What is this matter? How does it assemble? Why do they disintegrate? Can we imagine?

We see things pass by
Things watch us die
We are no more philosophers
Without the existence of matter
And others: Events
Self-sufficient at every moment
Obliterating as they proceed
Like words destroying meaning
By a tilt:
Objects raped subject
Staircases leading nowhere
Gestures noted but not explained.