My sweet memories ...

Somehow I wanted to sum up my whole Bhubaneswar experience in this poem at the end of my ILP. But even then I may have left out many incidents, which may find a mention in some posts later. Many of the phrases used here are typical of the ILP-ians (some are even specific to the AFG core committee!!) and others may not comprehend it..Sorry,but couldnt complete the poem without them.

I came here to this unknown place,
Leaving my home and friends behind.
I was sure of taking nothing back
Not even some sweet memories.

The first day I met so many friends,
With jokes and laughter all day long.
Our stories, fears, and targets we shared,
It seemed as if, it we had been friends all along,
But now I have nothing of these
Except the sweet memories.

Waiting for the D slots,
Presenting the finance/marketing sessions,
Enjoying the manchurians and custards at lunch,
Banging our heads at our laptops,
Now I do nothing of these,
All that is left is the sweet memories.

The bargains with the rickshaw-wallahs,
Our weekly 'trips' to Big Bazaar,
The orders for the Smokin' Joes pizzas,
And our live-with-nature mascots-insects,frogs & cows,
Now I miss all of these,
And am left with only sweet memories.

The superb carvings at the Konark temple,
The violent beach at Puri,
The famous(& hard to approach) Lord Jagannath-ji,
And the tan to top it all,
Where will I find all of these?
Except in my sweet memories.

The huge and scenic Chilika Lake,
The dolphins showing up now and then,
The sand blowing at me on the Seamouth,
The serene and superb (wallpaper) beach,
How short-lived were all of these,
They live only in my memories.

The reticent kids at the tribal school,
And the smart ones at the SOS village,
The white marble of Kalinga's Dhauli stupa,
And the numerous temples at Lingaraj,
Will I again get to see all of these?
Besides in my sweet memories.

The B9!,B9! shouts and the antaksharis,
The 1 Lakh plans seen everywhere,
The all-new (!!) experience at the dance party,
And the esteemed (& steamed) Aaltu Faltu Group-AFG,
I cant forget any of these,
I preserve these sweet memories.

Life moves on, as they say,
Not such a great loss this may be,
But then one phase of life, it surely was,
And forever with me are my sweet memories...

The Rose Garden (II)...

Please read the first part of the poem in the earlier post. I actually thought the poem ended with the earlier part. But then on another significant day in Bhubaneswar, I continued it with these lines...It may seem boring because of the redundancy, but then it was still important for me to write this..

I couldn't forget that beauty; that sight,
I planted a rose at my place,
Hoping I would have that experience,
That joy, in a few days.

I waited there each day,
With hopes running through my mind.
But later,I forgot to water that seed,
And even nature was not so kind.

There it lay unseen,unknown,
For days, yearning for me.
But I couldn't care even a bit,
Oh! How stupid I could be!

TOday, I went to see it bloom,
Hoping a beautiful welcome.
But then, the rose wasnt there
Only thorns I found some.

The same pain,the same gloom,
Dark clouds over me.
Tears flowed down my eyes again,
Life is still a failure for me.

I don't know what the future holds,
I may still win some day.
But now, the wait is not yet over,
The real garden is still far away...

The Rose Garden ...

I wrote the following lines in Bhubaneswar after a significant day.

Walking on this long road
Here is where I finally arrive.
The 'rose garden' is what they say,
Not just flowers, but fully alive.

I saw lilies on the way,
On the golden daffodils I did stare.
They called out to me all along,
But for those voices I didnt care.

This is the time I waited for
Roses all around,pink yellow and red.
The sight I could have never dreamt of,
Words i could have never said.

I picked one of them, so lovely it was,
For a moment my heart brimmed with joy.
But then, the nasty thorn pricked me hard,
I cried with pain; it hurt me,O boy!

I held that precious beauty still in my hand,
As blood oozed out of me.
My fingers felt those gentle petals,
But only the hurt thumb I did see.

A smile on my face, no longer than a blink,
Tears filled my eyes as I felt pain terribly.
Not at all what I wished!
The garden seemed so gloomy.

I walked away from the place,
Looking back at the fallen rose on the way.
Perhaps the wait is not yet over,
The real garden is still far away...