Thursday, March 03, 2011

Why I did not become a writer.

I had a few people telling me that I should have been a writer. Interestingly, that was my dream growing up. But then something happened that shattered my dream....

It was the summer of 95. I was a handsome young Indian boy with a love for romantic poetry and chess. She was a girl named Raquel. She had the most beautiful hair and a really big personality. Inspired by her grace and beauty, I wrote her a poem.

It was the best poem I ever wrote. In fact it was probably the best poem anyone has ever written. It was so good it made blind women cry , as well as regular women. I was ready to give it to her. I placed the poem into a nice little pink envelope and kept it under my desk and waited for the end of the session.

When class ended, I took the envelope and went over to where she was, and passed it to her confidently. She asked me what it was , I told her to read it and sauntered back to my desk.

As I sat down, I watched her open it and start to read it. Just as I expected, tears started rolling down her eyes, she was obviously moved by my eloquence. Then she started sobbing , which was a much stronger reaction than I expected. Her friends started going to her and asking her what was wrong.

Then she turned around and pointed to me. Her eyes.....they were full of hate. She got up slowly and walked up to me. I started to ask her why she was upset but before I could do so, I felt her hand across my cheek. Stunned, I looked at her perplexed. She then told me never to talk to her again. I staggered back , not knowing what just happened.

to be continued...