The Basketball Court

There was something eerily fascinating about seeing a drenched, partially illuminated basketball court at five thirty in the morning. I walked downhill towards it. There were a few girls with me who were talking amongst themselves, but their voices were a distant murmur. What I could hear clearly were the leaves rustling and the soft sound of the falling rain. The comforting smell of wet mud floated to me.

I could not resist. I sat down right there, on the road. Time passed. I had no idea how long I had been there. The sky slowly  turned from an inky dark blue to a warm, light pink. A beautiful ball of pale yellow appeared at the horizon.

It made me wonder why people were always in such a hurry. If only they stopped to admire nature…

Worlds!

She cant see him. But she knows the feel of his rough jaw, soft after a shave. She knows the texture of his hair. Soft, wild, unpredictable. Just like the man sitting next to her. Her friends tell her he has amazing brown eyes. She chooses to trust them. She knows his laugh. But most importantly she knows his voice.

That deep voice. Most people her age like rock/punk, but if he starts a romantic ballad, then even the guys can’t resist smiling. That voice guides her through life.
It tells her what she can’t see.

Their worlds are different, as they sit on a bench. He can see the birds, the grass, squirrels and swings.
She hears the chirping of the birds and the squeaking of the squirrels, and the swings creaking restlessly in the breeze. She can smell the damp grass.

She smiles as she remembers that night, an year to the day.
They had been sitting on the same bench, when he had asked her out. “I can’t see. I’m blind!” she had blurted out. “I don’t care…”he had gently whispered.
After that the bench had become a symbol of a mix of two very different worlds.

The Bell

O darling bell, I love thee
You have no idea how much we students wait for you
You bring a smile to our faces
Sometimes even laughter
Because just as a teacher starts her torture
You ring, saving us from wrath
We love you the best on Wednesdays
When you save us from drowning in misery
After double physics and English and murderous math
And at 1.05 when we escape to the dining hall
We hate it when the guard forgets to ring you
And when the teachers curse you
But remember sweet bell
We students always have, still do and always will love
Your delightful melody

The Terrace

It had become a routine. As soon as I got home I used to wash, change my clothes, have a light snack and then go up to the terrace with my new found friends. It had all started on Teacher’s Day. Two little girls had come to my neighbour and me asking for a little help with making cards. We obliged, and in 3 hours were chatting like we had known each other for ever. One of the girls’ younger brother also joined us.

The next day onwards, we started going to the terrace together. One of the best memories I have is an unplanned party, where the older girl and I had gone down to a bakery, got some ice cream, cake and rolls. I provided the Pepsi. And another when 3 of us had stayed on into the evening, watching the lights of the buildings, the stars and aeroplanes.

Then one night, at around 9.30 there came the dismal news. One of the girls was shifting house the very next day. All of us went to the terrace for the second last time, made a lot of noise, went crazy and took a lot of pictures, even a video.
The next morning we all went up again. There were a lot of hugs all around and soon goodbyes filled the air.

A month and a half later, I went up to the terrace. Accompanied just by 2 books, a pen and my phone which made poor substitutes for 3 girls and the little boy. The terrace which once had been, for us, a place of joy now had turned into just a terrace. No more was it the gathering place of happiness and craziness. No more was it the place where friends confided in each other. No more was it the location of a special bond.
Now it was just a terrace.

People

Probably the most diverse topic anyone can write about.
Many might think this is a really easy topic.This is where they're wrong. I mean seriously, think about it...there are so many people around. So many people you know. And honestly how many people have you met are actually alike? Think the same? Have the same opinion?

Let me give you an example.Twilight.Yes, I know many people hate it. But ever wonder why?
Alright, some people hate it because they think it's making vampires look like fairies. Others just don't like the storyline.

Now let's look at the people who are crazy about it. Some love the plot, others Robert Pattinson. Some love Taylor Lautner while others wanna marry Kristen Stewart. Tomboys love Alice. I adore Jasper Hale.

But nowadays that's changing. Especially amongst youngsters. They sometimes change the things they like, like girls change clothes, just so they get accepted with the 'cool' people.

Think about it...do you wanna be a clone of someone else? Or will you stand your ground,maybe be ridiculed in the process, but still know you are who you are!

Nostalgic

I miss those days when the only problem you had was ‘Ms, she stole my things’
Those days when the biggest problem could be solved in a matter of minutes
Those days when you always knew what your friend meant
Those days when chocolates would always do the trick
Those days when you didn’t really have to think twice before speaking
Those days when you thought the future rocks
Those days when you could not wait to get to school
Those days when the most important thing for you were your friends
Those days when you never cared what people thought about you
Those days when you cared for studies
Those days when you went to bed with a smile on your face
Those days when you had something to look forward to
Those days, those golden days…

First Day

There’s always this nervousness about the first day of school. To top it all this was the first day of seventh grade in a new school. On the bus I had spotted a girl from my previous school, and had calmed down a little. However the most calming factor that morning had been an elegant lady sitting in the front of the bus. Getting in, I had immediately gotten the vibe that she was a teacher, and had wished her. She had smiled back, and inquired politely about me, what my name was, which grade I was starting, etc. Upon reaching the school there was a rush. Students were impatient to see their friends again. I was lost. It was a big school, very big if you compared it to my previous one. The girl I knew had looked at me with surprise when I had gotten down from the bus. Apparently I had worn the wrong uniform. Luckily for me I had bought along the correct skirt. After she showed me where could change, and had pointed out where my class was going to be, she disappeared into the crowd. Very soon the class had gotten divided. As usual I was not in any of the groups. It was then a girl had come and sat next to me. Quiet, tall and with a lovely smile, she had informed me that she too was a new student. I relaxed a little. Because finally I had found someone who liked being with me.