College Diaries.

We were like freshly mowed grass’ hoppers,
heart-throbbers, public school’s essay toppers,
we gently swished through the front gates,
like the scholars of our dictionary,
like the bubble pop poppers,
you see, we popped every bubble that we came across
and we held every love we received,
at times, we dropped the love from our sacred hands
but never spilt the bubble soap water at least.

We once drenched our summer in a rain shower
and ran through the corridors pretending to be swallowed
in a narrow lane city,
winters were cosy and were soaked with evening dew
of laughter that echoed through the wooden desks
and peeped through the pockets,
firecrackers were not allowed on the campus,
but fireflies were so we became the perfect dragons of our imagination,
That’s how we had fun, that’s how we were our own becoming.

I once picked daisies that were already fallen
and pinned them in the curls of this girl that I know,
for the friendships we had, bloomed in its time
and we wished to be nowhere else but there,
in the campfire of each other’s warm embrace
that we let our cold hearts to sit around to,
we were rose water and puddles and paper boats
all together we were there, at the right moment,
at the right time too.

College days were mostly hot,
for the warmth in hugs and selfie-kissed kisses
made a perfect metaphor for rare happiness.
The street lamps tossed us winks on the way home
the sun was never vexed with us when we presented traces of our childhood
and baked stories of first romances to each other
on the peak of the semester.
The grounds were big enough to hold us together
and the railway tracks that kissed the outskirts of its back
always intermingled with our tip-toed slow dancing.

I met a bunch of people who smiled wider than the sky
and roared louder than the thunder.
Some made the beginning and remained to adorn the end,
Some evoked surreal emotions, one even became my best friend.
Some fought, some lied, some drifted away, some cried,
some were poems, some charcoal sketches, some tapped their love on guitar strings,
a few kept quiet, some hugged the pain away as they unjinxed
all my searches of partners in crime.
some of them could capture stories in a single frame
of what we were- scraped knees and soda pop laughter,
And they all let me watch
and learn passion and love and the value of what matters.
We ran so fast we flew when the clouds outshone the skies with lightning,
they made me live more or should I rephrase,
they made me love more,
they made me write more.

For the gorgeous journey of college and the people who made everything better, XoXo