My First Poem


Guys! As you might have guessed it already, I am going to tell you the story of how I wrote my first poem. Technically it was not my first poem, in fact I am not sure how many poems I wrote before this one, but I am sure about one thing, they all s**ked! So my first poem … right!..
It was a winter morning, the class was shaking of the crispy snowflakes attached to the window railing, I was watching the pupil come in to the class one by one through the frosted window, wrestling the weather and dodging the snow balls…. Oh! Who am I Kidding, There was no snow, no snow flakes and it was a summer, a damn hot one too. And if these guys were wrestling and dodging anything they were the bullies and their unmerciful punches. I will just tell the dull story of my first poem and about the narrative I have been watching ‘How I met your Mother’ Damn… Good….
So as I said earlier, it was an average summer day in an average south Indian school, in an more than average neighborhood, in fact it was so average that the only neighbors we had were the unmistakably terribly old residential apartments and the crazy ole lady that lived in one of them, I will talk about her some other day, seriously guys I am jumping around a lot with this story. SO We had our English lecture for the first hour that day and my our lecturer  Mrs. (I don’t know a another very old lady, not crazy though) had asked us to write a poem and bring. Shall we call her Mrs. Lecturer? Okay! So as I said Mrs. Lecturer has asked us to bring about a poem. And to top it all up our poem would get read by a random person in the class.
So I had a buddy who used to sit next to me all the time and whom I particularly love because he used to be take the major share of the beating because he was a tiny bit fat a little slower than me. I just ran away and he got beaten up, I would come back a little later to check on him with a tissue. So as she had asked us to write a poem and so far (taking my friends account then), I s**ked at it. We had only hardly a few minutes left before she would pop up in the class and treat a bunch of 10 graders like kindergarteners and kick them around. We were scared of her, really SCARED! So as I said my friend who took the beating for me turned to me asked to write him a poem. Yeah! Sure! He always stuck out for me and I always let him down, but seriously guys! A poem in five minutes is hard enough, now I had to write two.
So anyway I decided to write two, two poems. And I have absolutely no idea what I wrote, But I wrote two poems. I have a bleak memory that one was about winter and life and the other was ‘The Poets’. The one about the winter was kind of nice, or so I thought, It was a very sophisticated piece of words with nice hard to guess words, you practically needed a dictionary to read that poem and the other was in simple terms, really simple. So Somehow I finished and I gave him the Poets and explained the meaning of the poem to him, Okay there was nothing to explain, It was something like ‘Poets are Crazy’ themed. But anyhow I really liked the winter poem and thought this will be my great break through, I could even imagine the whole class standing up in appreciation and giving a great ceremony in honour and all those things, the girls asking for autographs, Okay! I admit I was a bit carried away.
So all that was about to be crushed, pooh! She called out my friends name and he went in with a paper clutched to his hand, Oh I forgot she forgot to mix the papers between friends, she just asked us to read our poems. So as I said he went in and recited out ‘The Winter Poem’ and explained how crazy poets are. I don’t think anyone listened but Mrs. Lecturer, she threw him out and asked him to run around the school, the first he did happily and the second he did not do. So then I was left with the poem ‘ that I wrote for him, Nope I did not get a standing ovation, She said I could sit in the class, As if I wanted that but then that got me into poetry and I have did good since then.
Oh! this has nothing to do with the post, I just liked it. So….
SO guys! That the story of How I wrote my first poem, and for the guy! He kind of did not like me sitting and he being out, once the class was over he trashed me, and now I had Another Bully to dodge and I had no one to share a beating with till I met ‘Abby’, Oh! That’s one story that’s full of lies and even if you like this one or not, I am going to make you listen to that one too, watch me!
And if by any odd chance you liked this one, give a comment!

So she came and So she went : My fist love



                             True Love happens once some say, and some say love is just a discovery and just like any discovery, Its is the product of great persistence. I do fall under the latter school of thought. Some are truly lucky to find themselves getting right on the very first time and some just need to keep trying so hard that they loose themselves from love just before they discover it. I do believe that the discovery of love itself is so great a feeling, especially since in this world when many do die before they get a chance to taste something so pure.


                             When for the very first time, I got the taste of love i was in 8th grade, Being born where I am and being raised how I have been, it was altogether a different world for me. Love may be a breather, but it did suck hell out me, On that day, when the dew drops had hardly settled, the sun so warm, sitting by the cold metal window of the dreary school bus, I saw her. She was exceptional, something so magnificent to my eyes that I have seen none so exquisite and splendid that time slowed around me. My eyes followed her as she entered the bus and disappeared in the crowd. I still remembered how her dark hair flew with wind and how lips curled as the cold wind teased her cheeks and turned them rosy.
              
                             Its just wonderful what love does to you, There certainly is something in it that transcends yourselves and radiates itself to whole world. It will manifest in ways that you may have never imagined yourself. Some write some sing and some paint, they discover themselves in areas that may have once seemed alien for them. That matter set aside, the next few days went by so slow are so fragile, tranquility all around. I almost discovered my love for nature with it, I ended up appreciating all those small things that once I never saw. I enjoyed the sun and the rain alike, everything was so beautiful. Love lets you see things differently.                                                                            
                             Every day I would rush to class sit in my desk and wait for her to walk in, Somehow my friends got the smell of it, but never knew the girl at least not until years later. I could hardly keep my eyes of her did everything possible to escape her gaze, and there i was fairly successful. You may ask why i was so scared in her catching me staring her. I too have no idea why it scared me so much, But of all the things that killed my sleep, this was the top scorer.


                             The end was not a very good one for this beautiful love story of mine, When after two years of desperately losing my mind on her I came up with courage to tell her my state of mind. She simply turned me down, That was so unbelievable when heard and that incident has for the very first time made me think of the words ” being heartbroken “. The days that followed were very bad but some where down the lane i caught my reins and sat down to think. The process somehow enabled me to convince myself to let my wounds heal naturally.Those days i felt the prick like no other, What pains does a teen has to bear than that !, Those things that were taken so seriously feels so stupid now.

                             Thinking of those days i feel that the days in love and the days after the heart break both has taught me a lot, like any boy in the part of growing up , the ability to not to lose faith has served well. I will tell you why one should never lose faith, It is very possible that the heartbreak may be just the beginning of something wonderful and if it is so, how can you be sure of being damned even before giving life a chance to make up ? As wonderful as love is so is the small things that are taught by it.

                             
                             The sweet little girl i saw on that wet day is the image of my very first love, and as days and years have gone by, these memories has just got ever the more dearer. Later as I have gone on to find my real love over several years of break ups and patch ups I can only be thankful, for love and all the wonders it brought along.