I dug out an old diary of mine (while trying to clear my junk-filled life). It is a book in which I used to write my poems. I started writing this way back in 1980, I think. I am not too clear about the date. This book has poems written through the years until it stopped somewhere in 1995.
It brought back a host of memories … of writing the poem, sharing it with friends, being ragged by them about it. My friends used to be terrified of me and my poems. But I remember ruthlessly reading it to them. They, in turn, would take out their frustration of being captive audience by tearing it apart ! ha ha ha. But it was fun.
I write some of them on the blog now. Especially those which still hold good, in the current times, at my age !