It’s funny when you look back into your life. And when the past rears its head up and you smile. You ask yourself, “was I like that?”. And you smile. For you know the answer. For you are the sum total of your existence. And that includes all the things, all the people that you were before. And are now. No regrets. You are what you were then. All phases included.
And why this now? Because this reared its head up: A poem (?) from mine past, circa 21-ish. Kinda dorky in an immature sort of way. I likes. For there is a story there.
And why did this rear its head up? Because i like inconsequential challenges. And thusly gave a shot at poetry after many years with this : A walk along the country lane : a poem by Poetess Sam a.k.a Samyukta.
And speaking of poetry or prose which garbs itself as poetry (or vice versa) brings back memories of the carefree times spent on various occasions in the cemetery, with the Criminally English and the Communal Cow and The Pillai who I don’t think has a linkable blog. The cemetery, where each took turns at writing one line of a story/poem as the case may be (wonder where those scraps of paper went?), in the august company of E.Obulesu (Army) and the Naidu family. Yes, they were six feet under us, but so what? Ah! My favourite cemetery spot in the whole wide world!!! Not including the burning ghats which I still prefer to cemeteries. Mine favourites so far being the Manikarnika in Banaras, and the one in Kathmandu near Pashupatinath. Now that topic is for another day.
And why this now? Because this reared its head up: A poem (?) from mine past, circa 21-ish. Kinda dorky in an immature sort of way. I likes. For there is a story there.
And why did this rear its head up? Because i like inconsequential challenges. And thusly gave a shot at poetry after many years with this : A walk along the country lane : a poem by Poetess Sam a.k.a Samyukta.
And speaking of poetry or prose which garbs itself as poetry (or vice versa) brings back memories of the carefree times spent on various occasions in the cemetery, with the Criminally English and the Communal Cow and The Pillai who I don’t think has a linkable blog. The cemetery, where each took turns at writing one line of a story/poem as the case may be (wonder where those scraps of paper went?), in the august company of E.Obulesu (Army) and the Naidu family. Yes, they were six feet under us, but so what? Ah! My favourite cemetery spot in the whole wide world!!! Not including the burning ghats which I still prefer to cemeteries. Mine favourites so far being the Manikarnika in Banaras, and the one in Kathmandu near Pashupatinath. Now that topic is for another day.
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1 comment:
Well well well ........ As i know that u like it when someone leaves a comment I am writing here.......... is it inconsequential?? cause i wud probably discuss it in person........ anyways the comment aint actually a comment ........ it is inside the frame of where comments should exist .......
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