3rd....

how do we start loving.....i was told by one of my beautiful friend.when we born,we see colors,light...we love mother nature....when we grow up more,we feel that someone is careing at me..yes,she is preety,her touch is care.she is mother,our mother and later on our father.we love our parents.one day...we stand before a reflection.a mirror.what ever we look like,we love us.we love to decorate us.One heart loving somany things,people.then our journey continues.we soon find,love demands more.we cant confine our love in this.we have to find someone.girls find someone as careing as her father and boys try to find someone as careing as his mother.as they are the first influence for their life.
i found my mother's attitude in her.......she ws not good looking...but she was ultimate for me...i did have a feeling like this in my school days.(:D)

I never ever thought that the poems I wrote from that day onwards was having inspirations from that girl.i alwyas loved to surprise her.I always waited to hear,"wow,I felt this last night".those poems are lost in time.one day recently I found a poem,which was written that time.i smiled at the inocency of what I wrote.the poem was simple and consize with matching lines....but I still know from my heart,i wrote to see her surprised.One day I felt to write about her.I hezitated,dont know why...may be i was feeling how shall she react.I wrote that poem.all the lines was talking about her.the last line was..."dont know why,i felt so shy.....writing to you"....I have never gave her that poem.I lost that chit of paper in time.....I was afraid to give her....why I was afraid....I dont know.....maybe I was loving her.

my first encounter with love

Once I wrote a poem, in my school days. I remember, no one gave interest to it but it produced a terror among my friends.(:D).they used to run away. Even during Tiffin breaks, they were terrorized shouting at themselves…Jeet with his poem, and someone even said that poem is of two long pages. well I was personally impressed by my poem. I thought it was my best work….I was surprised how can I write like this. whew!! I have that much feelings inside me.Well,she came that time. She was curious to know what I wrote. I read it to her. She listened quietly. we were on class 8.my immature poem, my immature mind. She just replied for a feedback. your poem is speaking my feelings. how can you decorate a feelings with words. Her eyes was sparking.glittering, as if she discovered something very unusual......

write to you letter....