My First Poem

It was eleven that day. All I was doing was rambling spaces on that board sheet and doing my maths assignment. I was all alone in the room, the door was shut, the AC was on and the curtains were evenly spread. I clearly remember that the assignment was chapter five Arithmetic Progression. And I could hardly understand a single question, except the third MCQ. All I did well were those MCQ's. But I did not know all, I just knew one, but still, I did all. Yeah, you got that right, I was just merely guessing and then marking the answers. Like A,B,C,B,A,C,D, amazing right?

This is what one can expect from a math hater. Yes, even today also I hate maths. I just don't know why I was studying maths. Like sometimes in my dreams I could even imagine the interview panel asking me a plus b whole square. And the stupid me lost the job or actually the interview just because of that stupid maths question. But wait, I would never think about doing a maths-based job, then why did I even dream about it?

Anyways, back to the point. I was lost when I jumped to the three markers. It seemed like I never solved those questions. Woof, I was tired and wanted to doze off. I checked on the last date of submission of the assignment and it said a week.

Hurray!!! The first thing I did right after that, was that I messaged Sanya, the maths topper, to send me her assignment PDF. What can one expect from a math hater? And like Anne Frank once said, that there is not much one can do about inherited traits. My granny also wasn't so good at maths. But something confusing is that mummy was a PCMB student and a science and maths teacher. Papa is an entrepreneur. Yes, he also studied commerce with maths. And this is something which arises the question that why I don't like maths. Maybe I am more like my granny. Anyway back to point.

I knew Sanya's answers was the best solution, all I were left to do was just copy her answers, make the PDF and submit it on Google Class Room. Simple right? But I made sure that after messaging her for the answers I deleted that chat from my side.

Yes yes, a fifteen-year-old teen, no personal phone right, So I used mummy's phone. Actually, it is a long story. I was fully exhausted, so I decided to keep my board sheets back. Then I took my maths register out. That stiff-backed blue register was caked with dust. Why wouldn't it be? I did not open it for three months. Like I just kind of bunked my maths online classes. So I would sit in my daily maths class with no register but yes with a pouch. To sum up, I did not study in that period. I would just join the class and sit like a dumb girl. I took that register out, blew air on it to clean the dirt.

With a lot of fortitude opened it up. The first chapter was complete. Then I was flipping pages. Plain white pages with bare ink on some random pages. I was surprised to look at it like it barely had any words written on it. Some lucky pages were filled with words and cuttings. Well, I reluctantly opened the NCERT book and started with chapter two. After completing the second chapter I had no plans to start with the third one.

Something struck hard in my mind. And so I decided to pen my thoughts down about it. I opened the last page of the register and wrote what struck my mind. I tried to write it in verse a poem with a rhyme scheme. I had been yearning to write a poem for the past few days. And that day was a fine chance for me to write. After all, why should my friends solely have all the pleasure to present their poems in the poetry cafe? I also desired to be the one whose poems people would har to. I was able to write. Within ten minutes my three stanza's were done. But got stuck in the fourth stanza. To be expansive I got stuck with the second line of the fourth stanza and with the title. I brainstormed about it for an hour, but nothing stuck in my mind. I could not what to write in that second line. And finally, I got frustrated I took that piece of paper crumbled it and wanted to throw it. That paper ball was in my hand and I opened the door, but then I decided to throw it tomorrow. Because all the lights were switched off and no one was there. Yes, I was or I am afraid of darkness.

I took that crumbled piece of paper, stretched it, made it flat and sandwiched it in my maths fair register.

I was very unhappy. I felt like that I was good for nothing. And that was the night when I decided that I won't even dare in my life to write a poem.

I was feeling sleepy, very sleepy. After all, after completing one full chapter of mathematics what would one expect a person like me to feel. Though I was happy when I finished the second chapter, my face got covered with sadness when I could not complete the last stanza of my very first poem.

Yeah very first, or not, because before this one I did write a five-lined limerick. But on grounds of a real poem, that was the first poem according to me.

In no time I jumped into the bed, took the ac remote and set the timer covered myself with my I Love You blanket and snored. The next morning was scorching. Ewww. I slept with untied hair and my face was wet. I woke up blank. My thoughts about my first poem weren't revolving in my head.

I started my day with a normal routine. I was so lost that I even forgot that it was Sunday. But before that, I had taken a bath. Mummy and Papa left for the market and that clearly meant we three were all alone. Granny, Deergha and I.

That day I wasn't very interested in watching sitcoms. Instead, I wanted to complete my maths chapter three. I took the register sat in my room with the same NCERT Book. That day it took me only forty-five minutes to complete a chapter. That was very swift.

But then I noticed a piece of paper that was bulging out of the register. I took that out and that was my poem. I wanted to throw that paper right away but then I halted. I kept that paper on the register and took my pen out. And once again brainstormed about the second line of the fourth stanza. Surprisingly I could complete it there in the second go. I could even come up with a title that always had proven tough for me.

I wrote that poem in the word document and share it with my friends and my English teacher. And guess what, every one like it. I got to hear that it was a good poem and that I even used the poetic device in the right way. I didn't even realise using poetic devices.

Coming to the present day, I have a collection of more than twenty poems. Somewhere deep inside my heart, I am very grateful for those two minutes which changed me and my thought process entirely. I am grateful for those because had I been thrown that paper, I would have never been able to complete my first poem. It was the triumph of my first poem.