Handwritten: When was the last time you wrote something by hand? What was it?
One, I wrote this morning and it was just to make a to do list. Two, if by handwritten, the prompt means to ask when was the last time I wrote something meaningfully beautiful or creative, I would have to take the longer route. So, the longer route it is, it would give my post a length. Story time!!
The only thing that comes to my head is the poem that I wrote for my college friends. Oh, how sweet? Yes, it is sweet because not every one goes beyond nick naming their mates or having a name for the group. I went a step ahead just to show how much I cared for our friendship and that I would cherish it forever. I scribbled a poem.
I did share it with my friends and they liked it. I named it “Ballad of the quintet” I have no idea why I chose these words, in particular, for the title. But I can see it makes sense. We are five hence, the quintet and in a way a poem telling a story is a ballad, right? Just being technically correct it means, “the story of the five friends”. Well, yeah Ballad of the quintet is much better sounds fancy for sure.
I remember taking its picture, but do not know where that could be and only God knows the whereabouts of the actual piece of paper. Anyhow, I do remember very clearly it talked of us meeting four years ago (from 2014) and went on to describing our characteristics; the “one who can literally do it all”, the “I won’t stand any stupidity”, the “world is colourful, why stick to one”, the “tsunami of laughter” and finally me the “I am still processing this” person.
Haha how very different we all are, yet bonded because of our similarities. You know, over the years I have felt that friendships are not as much based on the similar liking as much it is based on the mutual disliking of something or someone. Strange but funny and basically the norm of the world. Who am I to change that?
And so the poem goes on to describing our peculiar, funny and very memorable incidents that led the five of us to form a group. It was just two people in the beginning and another joined in. The one who just joined knew me, so I was the fourth one and lastly the fifth member actually had a huge fight with her existing circle of friends and fortunately her search of friends ended with us.
Oh yeah we went through the ups and downs. And I remember the fights pretty vividly, it almost got nasty and that is why the poem has no space for it or the mention of those dark days. Instead of that it tells about the love for pizza and food, in general, that we have.
I can still feel the cheese burst pizza – it was our favourite – too good to not mention. And now I want a slice, just the memory can make me hungry, you can imagine how good it must have been with the molten lava cake. Simply divine!
Oh yeah that was the last creative, heartfelt, descriptive thing that I wrote with my hand and luckily the fun is still on even though the poem is forgotten.