That time when I was too excited...

That time,
When I was too excited to notice.
.
Have you noticed this thing about attention?
The more excited you get, the less attentive you turn to be.
.
No, not a philosophical journey,
It was just a poet's Observatory.
.
Yeah, so what I was telling about,
That time,
When I was to excited to notice.
.
Notice what?
The green pants of my comrade,
Or that neighbors dense braids,
The smell of burning wire in the environment,
Or that little crooked line on your head?
.
See, I remember all those details.
I remember how those little buds of fire crackled,
I remember how some of the audience were flustered,
The smudge created on my name,
The shimmering light that those candles shed,
I remember all those.
.
Excitement made me forget about myself,
The core of my soul brightens
And my memory starts losing I, Me, Myself.
.
I don't remember whether I laughed or cried,
I don't even remember whether I looked surprised,
I don't remember my teeths gaping out (not at all),
Nor do I remember holding that knife like a pole.
.
Fogged image supplemented by these,
Formed my memory of myself for me,
The euphoria I felt seeped away long ago,
But my memory could never forget its warm glow,
Warning my intestines, as well as heart,
I was glad that in memories I liked more graceful than this goofing art.
~ Raj Nandani
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