THE LEAGUE



THE LEAGUE
Kaante- some thorns hurt deep
Is what they called themselves
Under the same roof they used to sit
Famous for there jests and uncanny wit

Though they had expertise in different fields
They were all bound by a single rule
That had brought them together and close
Fun was in excess and joy in overdose

One hated girls & other was shy
He enjoyed vexing as he was a gadfly
The other loved girls & often he would stare
Girls loved the other but he lacked the dare

They all revered a young scholar
He taught them with zeal & vigor
This was the common link they all shared
Even with their follies they easily fared

There came a time when their paths separated
But the league-kaante never disintegrated
They became mavens in their subjects
Their names were salient in their domains

One became the EC department’s superstar
Always spoke as if he knew lot about cars
Respected for his mien & blessed with eidetic memory
Dark & huge, he considered himself WSM Mark Henry


The fat one was adored for his geniality
The mechanical tribe admired his versatility
He believed in seeing the good & ignoring the flaws
Only the league knew sometimes how pesky he was

“Attitude is in my blood” the short always said
Thought that college girls were below his grade
Modest were his manners, special were his likes
He loved speed and was maniac about the bikes

The fourth was funny & romanced with his programs
He emphasized on speed of processor more than RAMs
About many things he spoke, many fake tales he told
He hated to lose & his anger he couldn’t withhold

They ventured on roads less taken
Together they were, never forsaken
They backed each other even in defeat
Adamant they were, nothing they would forfeit

Every game they played was in good spirit
Respecting each other’s dignity and merit
Everyone was enchanted by their grace
In a swoosh they would vanish without a trace

Adventures were many & their tales seem new
The league’s favorite drink was mountain dew
In ecstasy they would dance in verve on beats
Humble they were regardless of their feats

After four years they completed their learning
Some went further & others thought of earning
This isn’t epilogue & I don’t intend to end
This tale that has now taken a new bend

                        ~ Surya

This poem is dedicated to Shoeb, Vinod A.K.A motya and Arun my closest buddies who taught me many things and I had one helluva of a time with them. ( and will continue to have )

PS: WSM stands for World’s Strongest Man, those who watch WWE would be familiar . LOL J

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

A mist covered destiny

The Gambler's Night

Devouring of the Moon