hello,
My midterms were on the verge and I had screwed up big time till then as far as my marks(Class Tests) were concerned....but nevertheless...discovered the poet in me that day.
Situation: FIM class was going on....and everything was going overhead...and the commerce guys were nodding their heads as if the Prof was teaching 1+1=2. Not finding anything interesting to do...I suddenly realised that my adrenaline levels were down because of the usual poor sleep i had had the night(morning) before....so I took the generous decision of going to sleep even though I was stupid enough to sit in the 3rd row.....Invariably just like othr classes...the Prof caught me and asked me to go wash my face and come.
I did tht and came back....now I had the dreadful task of attending the lecture(40 more minutes were left)...with all my senses wide awake....Suddenly I started writing..........
(by the way FIM stands for Finacial Institutions and Markets for the less/more privileged who haven't had a shot at it)
Here it goes: It is titled "FIGMENTS OF MY IMAGINATION"
Among the banks, big and small,
I want to say shit and fuck them all.
The class has been dead and awefully boring,
At times we find the Prof. sulking.
Then come the mighty stock exchanges,
Selling Stocks and bonds like oranges.
But pardon me they have big brothers,
SEBI and RBI are like dung in the feathers.
He looks like a prince who holds his head high,
And God knows why does he look at the sky.
At times we fiddle and kick his ass,
No No, it isnt the Prof. but Arun of my class.
The term is over and the marks come out,
Ocassional scare covers me round about.
I flunk big time and fuck my grades,
My Poem sucks and so does everything else.
My dawn arrives as soon as I sleep,
Ending my freedom with the alarm's beep.
I rush to the class amidst humour and tension,
Wondering whether these are facts or figments of my imagination..........
Adieu,
Nishit
