Rain From The Past 3: It Was For You, Too

The card lay on the table before me, coloured pens on the side. Already, most of it was filled up, all cheery messages wishing him the best in his studies overseas. Overhead, the PA system was already announcing that his Departure Gate was open. Not much time left.

And when I picked up the pen, inspiration struck! It coursed through me, a powerful jolt that effortlessly strung words together in my mind, forming a rhyming poem that was a touch humorous, no less!

Just to make sure it was all fine, I scribbled it out on a paper napkin I had. All through this while, she sat next to me at the cafe table, talking excitedly to the rest of our friends. When I was done, I gripped her hand under the table.

"Dear! Take a look at this little poem which I'm thinking of writing for his farewell card! Hehe, I think it's almost as funny as that one I wrote for you last week!"

But she was distracted. And honest, perhaps.

"What? Another poem? Please la, just write something simple? Not another one of your silly things." Another friend said something then, and she turned back to them, laughing.

I ended up writing "Hey man, all the best over there! Stay happy always!". Funny how long it took me to pen that message, when a moment ago I could have filled three cards without breaking a sweat.

When another friend chided me for taking so long to write so little, I begged for his forgiveness, saying I was never one for writing, and that he couldn't blame me for it. He smiled, said it didn't matter, and passed the card on.

I threw away the crushed napkin on the way home. I couldn't bring myself to look at the words anymore. I stole a quick glance at them at the airport, but they suddenly seemed juvenile, peurile... silly.

I didn't write poetry for a long time after. The words, they didn't flow.