The Journey

A train, a girl, a dunce... The perfect recipe for disaster!

Sitting frizzled up in the train, I'm bored
So I contrive to pen this ode
Now this ain't a regular
This ain't simple
Its about a girl in pink
Sans a cute dimple [;)]
She sits facing me
Staring out the window
Other times holding her head
As if needing an aspirin dose.
I stare aimlessly in space
Fiercely debating with myself
Whether to sit and dawdle
Or to chat up with panache.
Now since panache (as you'll see) ain't a strength of mine
So I sit tryin to stir up a chat
From which she doesn't flee before time!
Putting my cell in my pocket, I lean forward
N thats when her's starts ringing
And I backtrack like a coward.
Yellow station signs pass by faster than seconds
And I continue debating with me
Writing stupid poetry
To capture this odd journey.
Finally decide to confess I'm bored
Would she like to chat
'Til reaching her abode?
I fine tune my line
('Cos it may be the only time in this train
That a girl's face was facing mine!)
Promise myself a chocolate
If she says just a precious word!
All through my dilemma, she stares out
God! Amazing tolerance to staying bored!
Swivels her cell between pink fingernails
Wipes her forehead(again!)
and continues her gaze..
Finally I blurb it out in a sigle blink
And she replies in a quicker wink
Look it up in the Oxford
Bit far from go
A single 'n' followed by an 'o'.
Does something new(!), closes her eyes to rest
But I don't and drudge up this rhyme.
I write awaiting my reward
Brow free of worry
The rest, as the wise men say,
Is History...


Pranay Khanna
27/8/2006