We are friends, we hang out.
Sometimes sit over the walls
of an abandoned yard
legs flailing like Humpty Dumpty,
looking, judging, giggling
over each passer-by.
I think I like him
but he calls me ugly.
He smiles adorably at me
when I get excited over the mangoes
that fall from a nearby tree.
He keeps all the stationery items
ready before our exam
since he’s aware I tend to forget
everything because of my all sorts of
jittery feelings during assessments.
He calls me stupid
because I watch the herd
of cows with their backs
swelling in and out like a wave
while crossing the road
as some kind of free entertainment.
I wear spectacles less often now.
I think my eyes are beautiful
and I want to show him
the only good-looking aspect I have
over my average body
and infant-like tiny crooked teeth.
He rummages through my
books and candies-loaded bag
and manages to find my fat spectacles somehow.
Every time!
And then calls me ugly
while placing it on my nose.
He sometimes misses his cricket practice
because I have frequent tiffs with my parents
for letting me choose the
career I feel I can be best at.
He says he will come
and talk to my parents.
So they let me do whatever
I want to do in life.
I laugh at his audacity.
At times, I do steal instances
to avenge him.
I call him stupid and ugly
and can’t stop laughing.
His childlike pout makes
my heart flutter again.
Why does he bear with me so much?
He again calls me ugly.
Why do I feel pretty when he calls me that?
When did this ‘ugly’ word
become so personal to me?
If ever, each relationship gets
as ugly as this one is
I’ll never look for
any beauty in this world.
