This poem is about my dearest darling friend,
The one with the smiling white teeth is she.
She’s got the height of a twelfth grader but the mind of a kindergartener.
Jumpy, ecstatic and constantly high on air.
Alert around the clock for a friend’s phone call from God knows where,
For she’s got a friend here, there, and practically everywhere.
A talented girl with words, but with sports I cannot say the same,
A klutz she most definitely is, and a forgetful one too.
On Monday she may forget her wallet, and tomorrow maybe her glue.
You would think for a girl her age, she would remember what we talked about on the phone yesterday.
But no, not this girl, she’s different.
Next time, don’t bother to dig a hole, just give her a call – she’ll undoubtedly keep it a secret.
The 15th of August is her favorite day,
Of course excluding that of February 7th, her birthday.
You see, she must be Indian through and through,
Because on that August special day…
I’ll guarantee she’ll dress up in orange, green, yellow, and blue.
So for the next Indian Independence Day, perhaps she’ll recite their whole history to you.
Now you know a bit about my best friend, although half of you probably already knew.
She’s like a sunflower in the middle of wilted roses,
Bright and outgoing, a twinkle always in her eyes.
She’s the biggest dip in the roller coaster ride,
The best part that gives you the adrenaline rush, the excitement you didn’t expect.
I could keep on going, but it’s probably best to hear the rest from Meghna.