Nineteen

In the winters of November twenty-17

I met this dainty little girl Prageet

We became friends for real instead of faking it on FB

Started hanging near her PG & cafes at MKT

Each time we meet, we talk about movies, philosophies & books to read

Each time we meet, she has new crushes and knee injuries 

Each time we meet, she’s clumsier than Mr. Bean

And the moment we sit down to eat

She’s so annoying – clicking the food for Insta tweets

But that’s the fluff covering the gold underneath, that ain't skin-deep

She pours her soul every time she sits on the floor to teach

Never complaining about the dirt or heat

Making it impossible not to fancy her in a heartbeat

She’s almost always ill, yet never stays still

She’s a bird who’s fledgling, unfurling her wings

She’s the freak from the Hangover movies

She’s the song you want to listen on repeat

She’s the friend you want at night's 3.15

Today, she’s turning nineteen, I hope she doesn’t retreat

Hope she doesn’t tread the path that’s trouble-free & comes with guarantees

Hope she keeps her beliefs – gets up after every crushing defeat

Hope she finds her winning streak & sweeps the world off its feet