3rd September 2004
This cool dusk post monsoon,
I wish for company, really soon
I can't sit still and watch the moon
For lonliness lays me a loon.
Every evening this does happen
My concentration does slacken
Saturation with books reflects on my looks
My nose alert to what elsewhere cooks.
Yet my conscience it presses
Due to various sorts of stresses
Work I must in excesses
For acaedemic grade muscle flexes.
But Company I crave
Be it a Saint or a knave
I do not rant and rave
Why must this evening be grave?
I might fancy a lover
Be it Preity or another
Spending time is all the matter
But let it be meaningful
It makes the interest fatter.
Still, there is literature
Way appealing than viral nomenclature
Though its quality could a be fixture
Books provide company I believe
Alas! The sort I wish to leave
It had best be a friend
Conversation with whom would have no end
For him, my schedule I'm willing to bend
Or better still, time suspend
For the while my pen sufficed
Kept me warm, not a nerve iced
But the ultimate company, I've realised
Is me, myself, the solitude from paradise.
This poem was written in tense times when my future was fairly uncertain and dangling in front of me.