This old treasure is a thin little pocket diary sans its cover... the pages have yellowed, and I can't quite place it's date, except that its atleast 15 years old. In a very bad handwriting, it has in it, a poem scrawled in ink... without further preamble, let me just present it to you.
Bewakoof Prajakta
Ek ladki thi Miss Prajakta
Na usse tha kuchh aata jaata
Waise usse marathi ka period tha bhaata
Specially jab teacher hoti Mrs. Nivedita
Uska har ek joke hota tha flop
Phir bhi kehti 'I'm top'
Uski bewakoofi ka na tha ek bhi stop
Intelligence ka na ugta uske brain mein crop
Poets ne usspar poetry banaii
Phir bhi uske brain par bewakoofi thii chhaaii
Woh karti bas apni badhai
Aakhir ek din uski bewakoofi rang laaii
Ek din shuru kiya usne doosron ko kaatna
Shukr hai nahin chaha kisi ko chaatna
Yehi dukh humein hai doosron ko baantna
Log uske liye lage naamon ko chhaatna
Koi kehta woh hai crocodile
Koi kehta woh maarti hai crow ki style
Main kehti hoon uski hai bandar jaisi smile
Usski report banati hoon main file by file
Kabhi na hoga iss poem ka khaatma
Kyunki bewakoofi na chhodegi uski aatma
Yehi hai iss poem ka climax
Jiske liye loongi main sabse tax
I kid you not, people. This is for real. I know this was written sometime back in school, but darned if I can remember who wrote it. I admit with some regret that the handwriting is not mine. I have a sneaking suspicion though, that this might be the work of the over-fertile imaginations of more than one mind, and that the writing merely belongs to the person who put it to paper.
Weren't we just perfectly horrid when we were kids? And very happy being so, if I recall correctly... I remember vividly how we teased and harassed the subject of this poetry, Prajakta, and feel a little hot behind the ears about it, at the moment. I called up Meenal to read this out loud to her, soon as I finished laughing my head off about it (so that I could begin again, of course). We both agreed that we were wicked and horrible and completely hateful to her, the poor thing, but we couldn't really help cracking up over this! This is a very insufficient apology, and one that I'm sure will never reach the intended recepient, and I hope, also unnecessary and that she has forgotten and forgiven all this!
Does anyone remember who wrote this? This is an open appeal to all the other girls to tell me, if they happen to read this and remember anything...
