The air was new, the land new, and so were the names,
Wondered I, the time I’d take to fit into the newer frames.
But it was quick, for one showed an instant interest and respect.
Respect? Or was it his coy formalities as that was it, now I bet.
The first day at college wandered I with a grazed head,
Ragging and the new jokes alike made my face go red.
First good morning to the one closer to my home land,
Bond with him, then I knew not I’d make a strong band.
This was a start, and newer fondness kept pouring in,
Their first incidents I forget, but know they’re really in.
And cosy I settled cherishing the days as they came,
A chain of experiments began with many a pretty dame.
Laughing, limping, lazing and loving a year passed by,
Amongst the exhilaration, books and bonds did I pry.
Hostel nights and night outs kept me on my toes,
A thousand pranks, song and dance and giggles rose.
Irritating and vexing, one, sat all while,
As he sat always, is really worthwhile.
Scolded me, one, for not wearing a jacket,
And iced my head, one, throughout the fevering racket.
Brawls and quarrels of course were a daily chore,
Just a slap here and persuasion there was much more.
Water fights were much as were days without a bath,
Chattering through the night and day’s sleep was an aftermath.
Meanwhile affections grew and drew close even the new,
“Serious or fun loving?” asked one, now a part of the crew.
This one, people mistook this sneeze-er for me earlier
God knows how a lookalike, but now indeed he’s much friendlier.
Submissions tomorrow and I ran for an assignment copy to borrow,
Journals alike, practically they being just theory were never my sorrow.
Death knell had rung, with the sword hanging over me,
Then a shame, but eleventh hour study is now just so we.
What a relief it was, a sigh and a sleep so deep,
After the exams, partying was all until results reap.
Started with a peg, then bottles turned so less,
Licking fingers, left over chicken bones were just a mess.
Splendid days I’d live, blissful air I’d breathe, spirits high,
Until, the devastating rumours of results began to fly.
Mata ka darbar, rabb da pyaar, was the only rescue,
Sins of the past, the books’ ghost now flew.
Results have always been a long story to narrate,
Skip it I now, lest my friends would berate.
Just hear you this, it was not always a setback,
For next, in flying colours we pounced right on track.
I remember some tears, that make me sad and repent,
Even a few that make me laugh at the time we spent.
“My friends were not like this”, once did this pretty girl cry.
Quiet – another one was the egg tasting guinea pig for my first kitchen try.
Petrol - partners was one out of the thousand terms so queer.
Though lucky I, two separate toppers as my pillion were always so near.
Mother of all at work, and a baby to understand our joke,
This little’s limboo – lemon drink always made the gang so broke.
A poem you’d say, is this that goes so long?
Dear my, to college days does this belong.
Lots is left, unsaid and unheard, yet in end lots would remain,
This is just an intermission, the reminiscing here I start again.
There were journeys; there were trips and travels,
Half of the time, the plans would nothing but fail in ravels.
Laugh now I, as we still managed a few outings to count,
Taxis, temples, bikes, beaches, fun and food, and trekked we amount.
Some journeys turned classmates to friends, some brought tensions,
Some taught lessons, and some, well cameras I better not mention.
Dinners were outings too, well not when the dabbas and bai gave us a miss,
But regular coffee, you and café days with pizza’s flowing and parties of finesse.
Well food was never enough; don’t know if it was the stomach or the tongue,
Hawks, we tore the canteen pao or bhatura, scorpions, the coke bottles we stung.
Shamelessly we gormandised poor girls’ and a boy’s tiffin, it was a war you’d fear,
And before Amir’s movie did we gatecrash thee weddings at the lavish park so near.
Food over it was time again for those yawn-y classes,
Getting on to my nerves, those profs., were with heavy glasses.
Some spoke Greek, some English, Hindi, Marathi, and some couldn’t any,
Sitting with them, a I forget my grammar, language and a beautiful vocabulary.
Havens for completion work, lectures meant gossip and giggles,
Sleep apart, dreams, jokes, chips and frooties, even many a heart mingles.
Fests, were another such occasion, high spirits for talents, politics and affairs to rise
With opportunities alike, to friends and foes, music and dance, limelight added spice.
Rumors and images were made, even fell down a few when a working P was said,
Committees clubs and posts were grabbed; money was always the big word in red.
Other festivities I cry for the B’day bumps, ‘?’ is my name and I’m not a preaching kid,
Gifts in combo, dancing bongo, surprising people and caking faces I don’t want to get rid.
Birthdays I’ve celebrated four, and that wakes me up from this beautiful dreamy prose,
I loom my destination, and this scintillating journey snaps away as the scent of rose.
Fragrance, colour and gorgeous words I hunt, hunt to name my heart’s saga,
Voices may die out, but in my soul this tune would forever be a vibrant raga.
As the climax is reached, the lights die down, and the curtains draw,
I stand puzzled, gripping the abundance of love, looking at Time in awe.
When I clutch on to this love, I’m marooned in grief for it’s the time to part,
A tear rolls down, for all my loves move away, leaving just remembrances for me to cart.
Leaving just remembrances for me to cart.
Wondered I, the time I’d take to fit into the newer frames.
But it was quick, for one showed an instant interest and respect.
Respect? Or was it his coy formalities as that was it, now I bet.
The first day at college wandered I with a grazed head,
Ragging and the new jokes alike made my face go red.
First good morning to the one closer to my home land,
Bond with him, then I knew not I’d make a strong band.
This was a start, and newer fondness kept pouring in,
Their first incidents I forget, but know they’re really in.
And cosy I settled cherishing the days as they came,
A chain of experiments began with many a pretty dame.
Laughing, limping, lazing and loving a year passed by,
Amongst the exhilaration, books and bonds did I pry.
Hostel nights and night outs kept me on my toes,
A thousand pranks, song and dance and giggles rose.
Irritating and vexing, one, sat all while,
As he sat always, is really worthwhile.
Scolded me, one, for not wearing a jacket,
And iced my head, one, throughout the fevering racket.
Brawls and quarrels of course were a daily chore,
Just a slap here and persuasion there was much more.
Water fights were much as were days without a bath,
Chattering through the night and day’s sleep was an aftermath.
Meanwhile affections grew and drew close even the new,
“Serious or fun loving?” asked one, now a part of the crew.
This one, people mistook this sneeze-er for me earlier
God knows how a lookalike, but now indeed he’s much friendlier.
Submissions tomorrow and I ran for an assignment copy to borrow,
Journals alike, practically they being just theory were never my sorrow.
Death knell had rung, with the sword hanging over me,
Then a shame, but eleventh hour study is now just so we.
What a relief it was, a sigh and a sleep so deep,
After the exams, partying was all until results reap.
Started with a peg, then bottles turned so less,
Licking fingers, left over chicken bones were just a mess.
Splendid days I’d live, blissful air I’d breathe, spirits high,
Until, the devastating rumours of results began to fly.
Mata ka darbar, rabb da pyaar, was the only rescue,
Sins of the past, the books’ ghost now flew.
Results have always been a long story to narrate,
Skip it I now, lest my friends would berate.
Just hear you this, it was not always a setback,
For next, in flying colours we pounced right on track.
I remember some tears, that make me sad and repent,
Even a few that make me laugh at the time we spent.
“My friends were not like this”, once did this pretty girl cry.
Quiet – another one was the egg tasting guinea pig for my first kitchen try.
Petrol - partners was one out of the thousand terms so queer.
Though lucky I, two separate toppers as my pillion were always so near.
Mother of all at work, and a baby to understand our joke,
This little’s limboo – lemon drink always made the gang so broke.
A poem you’d say, is this that goes so long?
Dear my, to college days does this belong.
Lots is left, unsaid and unheard, yet in end lots would remain,
This is just an intermission, the reminiscing here I start again.
There were journeys; there were trips and travels,
Half of the time, the plans would nothing but fail in ravels.
Laugh now I, as we still managed a few outings to count,
Taxis, temples, bikes, beaches, fun and food, and trekked we amount.
Some journeys turned classmates to friends, some brought tensions,
Some taught lessons, and some, well cameras I better not mention.
Dinners were outings too, well not when the dabbas and bai gave us a miss,
But regular coffee, you and café days with pizza’s flowing and parties of finesse.
Well food was never enough; don’t know if it was the stomach or the tongue,
Hawks, we tore the canteen pao or bhatura, scorpions, the coke bottles we stung.
Shamelessly we gormandised poor girls’ and a boy’s tiffin, it was a war you’d fear,
And before Amir’s movie did we gatecrash thee weddings at the lavish park so near.
Food over it was time again for those yawn-y classes,
Getting on to my nerves, those profs., were with heavy glasses.
Some spoke Greek, some English, Hindi, Marathi, and some couldn’t any,
Sitting with them, a I forget my grammar, language and a beautiful vocabulary.
Havens for completion work, lectures meant gossip and giggles,
Sleep apart, dreams, jokes, chips and frooties, even many a heart mingles.
Fests, were another such occasion, high spirits for talents, politics and affairs to rise
With opportunities alike, to friends and foes, music and dance, limelight added spice.
Rumors and images were made, even fell down a few when a working P was said,
Committees clubs and posts were grabbed; money was always the big word in red.
Other festivities I cry for the B’day bumps, ‘?’ is my name and I’m not a preaching kid,
Gifts in combo, dancing bongo, surprising people and caking faces I don’t want to get rid.
Birthdays I’ve celebrated four, and that wakes me up from this beautiful dreamy prose,
I loom my destination, and this scintillating journey snaps away as the scent of rose.
Fragrance, colour and gorgeous words I hunt, hunt to name my heart’s saga,
Voices may die out, but in my soul this tune would forever be a vibrant raga.
As the climax is reached, the lights die down, and the curtains draw,
I stand puzzled, gripping the abundance of love, looking at Time in awe.
When I clutch on to this love, I’m marooned in grief for it’s the time to part,
A tear rolls down, for all my loves move away, leaving just remembrances for me to cart.
Leaving just remembrances for me to cart.
No comments:
Post a Comment