A BEAUTIFUL DREAM...

On a fresh chilling Monday Morning
I was walking along the subway and
Saw this beautiful girl with a beautiful smile.
My eyes relished the nectar as she blushed
And mesmerized me with her seducing style.
My shivering steps heaved to her to enquire the time,
She smiled again and said “Its quarter past nine…”

As I came closer and even closer…
I felt her aroma emanating.
Her reddish lips, dimples on her face and beautiful body
Were all stimulating.
I pondered and introspected,
Was it Love at first sight???
Or yet another Beautiful Dream?

My musings suddenly broke
As she held my hand and spoke,
“I am an angel and your Sweetheart
But the savage death has segregated us apart.”
I looked again at her angelic face,
Locked our hands and spoke with grace.
“Darling I love you, and you are mine,
See, our love has beaten the test of time”.
I sealed hear a loving kiss
And she to me, with enchanting bliss.

All of a sudden I awoke as the clock struck nine…
It was Monday morning but the girl was only a dream
And never mine.

Nostalgia

As I gaze out of the running meadow,
Sitting on train peeping out of window.
I remember and fall into the oblivion of nostalgia,
The life at BITS was frolicking and fantasia.

Those memorable days make me cry,
Freaking out at C’not, Anc, Shivganga and sky.
How lively the life was at BITS,
Now those days have become history that I miss.

Now each and every face seems to be my friend,
Each and every moment spent there touch my heart.
O ye time just pause and revert back,
For I wanna dance and sing the songs of past.

The songs, niteouts, movies and friends,
Oasis, Apojee, Interface and Bosm,
Tests, labs, Comprees, assignments.
Makes my heart goes hmmmm..hmmm.hmm.....

pals, dances and the luscious fried maggi ,
Samchat, mirchis and those salad days,
Chimpu, Pappu and their hot and cold coffee,
Have all become a blissful memory.

Scribbling while sitting back in the insti,
Watching beauties while studying in the reflee.
Or putting laccha while ghotting in the cutie,
Are the reasons I always toiled for D in compree

Singing, dancing n writing Orkut Scraps,
Gossiping, humming or sacking out at SAC,
Eating, sleeping and putting lachha,
Were the pastimes in BITS ,O my dear maccha !!

I wish I had wings and spurs to fly,
I would vanish high to Pilani sky.
Where the rain pours to make the peacock chrip
In the wonderful place called BITS.