My adolescent longings...
It was the best and most relaxed fortnight, in a long, long time. I was home after almost a year and a half. My beautiful, beautiful Dibrugarh. It was perfect at 22C and yes, I'm scoffing at the most unfortunate souls who were still steaming in Delhi then. When I de-boarded at the small airport in Dibrugarh it was blissfully drizzling. I could have almost cried with joy. Picture the usual monikers of green, fresh, verdant satiated, lush, cool, cozy, etc.
 |
| Enroute to town from Mohanbari |
My ever mindful mother had brought a light shawl for me to wrap up, I'm not exaggerating, I did need it. I rolled down the windows and sprawled on the rear seat of the car, the cool air, the droplets, the rushing tea gardens did wonders and an album of memories filled me. You see, I get nostalgic very easily and quite often. It's a bit melodramatic at times but then I found out I was always so.
One rainy afternoon, I dug out an old journal of mine, from my high school years and read through it. Wow! was I a cheesy, drama queen back then or what! There are rantings about mean girls, gloating about being the popular girl, complaints about teachers, detailed arguments with parents, and of course, new crushes every month. There are secrets written in silver ink and it's quite a bother to read them. I mean, not that they are Harry Potter-like invisible and stuff, but yes, angling it against the light so that it doesn't glare requires much effort. And not one of them was worth it. Also, there are sincere pledges about focusing on studies and reiterating my ambitions which I am sure were triggered by low grades in tests.
Ha, ha! Funny but oddly sad, that inevitable feeling that creeps in, that tugging at the heart, that longing for the days gone by. So much mattered then and yet so little too.
Anyway, let me put up some highlights from my teenage diary. I find out that the boy I had a crush on was leaving town and my precious love story was nipped in the bud. You cannot even begin to imagine how sad I was, how heartbroken it made me, so much so, that I was penning poetry!
Sample my break-up poem:
One drop of eternity,
Endless moments of pain.
Nothingness in it's severity,
And the advent of rain.
Every drop of rainwater,
Rolling down its destiny.
A love-forsaken path
Against heart's mutiny.
Rain runs a free drop
Or perhaps steered by nature,
Traces of cruelty in humour,
Inevitable longings of life's caricature.
Now, two things about this teenage poem of mine. One, I was bloody well mindful of making words rhyme and two, I have no idea what the last line means or even how I came up with such a tongue-twister.
Ha, ha! Funny but oddly sad, that inevitable feeling that creeps in, that tugging at the heart, that longing for the days gone by. So much mattered then and yet so little too.
Anyway, let me put up some highlights from my teenage diary. I find out that the boy I had a crush on was leaving town and my precious love story was nipped in the bud. You cannot even begin to imagine how sad I was, how heartbroken it made me, so much so, that I was penning poetry!
Sample my break-up poem:
One drop of eternity,
Endless moments of pain.
Nothingness in it's severity,
And the advent of rain.
Every drop of rainwater,
Rolling down its destiny.
A love-forsaken path
Against heart's mutiny.
Rain runs a free drop
Or perhaps steered by nature,
Traces of cruelty in humour,
Inevitable longings of life's caricature.
Now, two things about this teenage poem of mine. One, I was bloody well mindful of making words rhyme and two, I have no idea what the last line means or even how I came up with such a tongue-twister.
Looking back at adolescent me I can't help but chuckle, 'Was I for real?'
Coming from 1 13-year old, I must say "not bad". Emotions are welling forth from the deepest part of your heart. Although do explain the last line of the poem:)
ReplyDeleteTo say what was written and read was just 'nice' would be an understatement. To admit that this reader was just surprised would be again doing the same. To know, learn and be startled that there was a time when our lives intertwined and to be a small part of moments that lead to lines being written as the ones shared, would be just a futile attempt to express how lost for words this reader is. Moments are created while penning down the forgotten stories of the past and many a moments are lived when its read by drifters like us......
ReplyDeleteWill not look forward to but would visit your page to bring myself more such smiles as the ones I have now...! Glad to have shared the same rooms called classes in school with you.
I was certainly expecting a lot more melodrama. It is actually quite controlled and well written for a 13 year old.
ReplyDelete