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

-
Image
A mist-covered destiny ~ A speech by Satish R Inamdar Sixty-ninth Independence Day is here; the tricolors are in full bloom, a sudden rush of patriotism seems to arise in the heart of every common Indian. I am certainly not against this new feeling that sweeps over us for one day like a cyclone that raises alarm of impending destruction but changes its course just in time to avoid it all. Because, for all certainty I know 16 th august, the very next day will be just like other 364 days of the year and every memory and feeling on the day before it would vanish in a puff of smoke as we get busy in our livelihood. This year, the Independence Day happens to be on a weekend and I feel for the masses, who have been denied of an opportunity for a national holiday. Before we begin, lets do a reality check: “Tiranga” or “Tricolors” as we usually refer to our national flag has actually four colors not three. Everyone seems to ignore the navy blue wheel in the center of it. It is...
Read more

The Gambler's Night

-
Image
The dictionary defines gambler as a person who is willing to take the risk in hope of a desired result. A risk-taker is a gambler. A gambler doesn't necessarily meet success every time. Loss is always expected; the undesired result. It was sometime during the month of May, summer vacations were on but Sainik school had called back its pupils for early onset of classes. The campus was empty except for the final year batch. The city of Bijapur bathed in the intense heat of blazing sun. The air near the surface of earth was so hot that it often resulted in mirages on the black velvety asphalt road. The days were hot; the nights brought relief with occasional rains and cool breeze. It was not an ordinary night. It was raining hard and fast and it made a rhythmic sound as it splashed on the window panes. Mike and Saty were in no mood to study, they were sitting near the window and discussing about the smallest route that they could take in this rain to reach Reshma’...
Read more

THE CITY

-
The City The feelings of pleasure and lust Places devoid of dust The city and its nights Always filled with sparkling lights Extravaganza is the theme here always Clubs populated by lesbians and gays People have lost the sense of shame Letting dignity fall, for few days of fame The life here changes like trends in fashion It’s like music played without passion Blindly following an unknown leader Reactionless being nothing more than a reader Money and fame are the ultimate powers Beauty here is brought by artificial flowers   The mock of nature makes this place stink To lower levels humanity sinks You should know when people smile Behind it, the concealed intents are vile The flowers and the gifts that they send Shouldn’t make you to treat them as your friend Even with shining lights this place seems dark Life seems a twisted tale even though it’s just stark The exuberance and the aura feel hollow In this faint light, which...
Read more