Summer Blossoms & Foolish Boys
© by ๐พ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐ฎ๐๐๐๐๐๐
(written for my batchmates at SXCRAN - with fading memories)
Part 1: The Summer Blossoms
The summer rains had left the skies,
We swaggered in, we had arrived!
Heard those soft giggles nearby,
Hearts aflutter, startled eyes!
Those once in pigtails, in shapeless school dresses,
Had bloomed overnight, with curves and tresses.
A whiff of roses, in rainbow hues,
Perfumed, alluring, the nearer they drew.
Those studiously avoided glances, demure half-smiles,
Brightened our days for quite a while.
From chalk-dust and ink, to charm with grace,
The Blossoms lit up every dark space.
We remember well and we will,
That late summer when earth stood still.
Wild imaginations raged in the heat,
Scribbled, doodled notes on blank sheets.
The saints and scholars, all lost their poise,
The Summer Blossoms bedazzled us foolish boys.
Ah, SXC Ranchi, the whispers are still alive.
The crushes, those feels, the heartbreaks of ’75.
Part 2: Where Are The Foolish Boys
(The title was inspired by the reaction of a female friend/classmate to Summer Blossoms ๐คฃ)
Where Are Those Foolish Boys?
Where are those Foolish Boys today?
Tongue-tied, tripping on what they meant to say?
Who strutted in the hallways full of silly noise,
Stuttered at those smiles, ah yes, those boys!.
They practiced suave lines in the mirror’s glow,
But squeaked out greetings pitched far too low.
Legends in their daydreams, but trembling in real life,
A glance from a Summer Blossom cut sharper than knife.
Where are they now? Probably hunting for their specs,
Misplacing their keys, muttering, “Old age wrecks!”
Still claiming "I coulda impressed someone then,
If destiny hadn’t stuffed chalk dust in my pen."
Those titans of crushes, those poets of doom,
Who fainted inside at a whiff of perfume.
Who doodled big hearts, not focused on studies,
Rehearsing “Hi” endlessly like other chaddi buddies.
Beneath all the dramedy, something stays,
The warm ache of sunlight of faraway days.
Those Foolish Boys have grown into Foolish Old Boys,
Bewitched, besotted but with shiny trinkets & toys.
So where are they now? All right here, it appears,
Laughing at our old selves, blinking through tears.
Still grateful those Summer Blossoms had dazzled their eyes,
And left Foolish Boys forever bumbling, unwise.
Part 3: Where Are Those Summer Blossoms?
As expected, a few Foolish Old Boys (names withheld to protect them) have asked the question uppermost in their minds after reading Where Are Those Foolish Boys ๐คฃ
Where Are Those Summer Blossoms?
Summer Blossoms once strolled, sharp as cutlass,
Faces glowing, sashaying & swaying, still pure sass.
Their perfume alone could start a small riot,
Cool, calm, collected… well, except when they're on a diet.
Those Summer Blossoms? Now Auntie Autumn Blooms, seasoned and bold,
Accomplished career queens, business cards made of gold.
Moms who survived toddler dramas & teenage storms,
Grandmas even, still breaking hearts, in hourglass forms.
Batting lashes over bifocals, hair sparkling of silver,
Commanding attention, making all mankind quiver.
They sip drinks like empresses, unbothered, full grown,
Running companies, households, classrooms, ruling our hearts they still own.
The Autumn Blooms laugh freely, lighting every room ablaze,
Still our sirens, our muses, from our clueless, bumbling days.
They glow, they tease, they torment with practiced poise,
Forever Autumn Blooms Summer Blossoms,
Queens of Hearts of us Foolish Old Boys.
