It was a very pleasant summer morning and the sun could not be seen,
It had rained intermittently all night and was drizzling still.
I went for a walk in the slight rain came back drank milk and then smoked a joint because I thought that then time will pass away easily and won’t be a strain.
I lied down on the bed again and the stimulated but in a way tunneled imagination saved me from boredom because there was nothing to do,
The discomfort due to the absence of a pillow(my own on which a friend of mine was then sleeping) also prevented me from sleep, and
If you just wanna know what it is all about this poem of mine or gibberish prose then it is that some friends had come over last night and we talked and had fun, drank a lot of alcohol and there were few interesting women and all
but I don’t wanna say anything anymore about how it was and what all we did last night because I am trying to write a poem and the lines should not be too long or somehow all wrong,
Even if it is true that I am lazy and poems are supposed to be shorter than prose and more beautiful for I don’t know how else a poem is supposed to be different from prose and I sometimes think that the tradition of poetry is old and elitist and that what should be called poetry is a political debate because I certainly don’t like Wordsworth(although I am a student of literature and so am somewhat ashamed of saying so) and Shelly(although I know that he was a revolutionary) but like Blake and the love poems of Vidyapati the 14th century Maithili poet who much of the world does not know about and neither did I till some time ago.
But, yes, so, it got very late last night or it was early morning till I could finally sleep and had to go to college only a few hours thence so I decided not to sleep at all if I was to attend all the classes that day which I wanted to do because there are strict rules for attendance under the new VC’s rule.
I did attend all the classes and also met a woman I wanted to meet who said my eyes were red and I told her the story of last night or some of the details about last night.
Yes I told her in quite some detail because its nice talking to her and its so much easy to communicate through speech than write a poem and later on that day there was a very boring class, the very last one in which the teacher didn’t realise that she had tired everyone thoroughly and some of them prayed quite spontaneously that God make her stop.
She didn’t stop for a long time though she glanced at her watch twice and unconsciously talked about her philoshophy of life while telling us about an English poet of medieval times(for the British ancient) and I thought she thinks it’s her duty to teach and won’t leave us earlier which is our unspoken but most earnest wish