You know it's spring...

It's March now and the cold, foggy, dark mornings have given way to pleasant, sunny and less groggy ones- the kind which don't let your conscience acquit you to leave for classes without a bath (although the exercise is still ignored with contempt)! Spring is here and with it has brought back the joys of life. The dried leaves (a la Mohabbatein) and withered flowers give way to colourful blooms. Those student society (surprisingly, a not-so-sociable-animal like yours truly happens to be in one too!) meetings which were either confined to the comfort of warm rooms or rescheduled to the afternoon slot, are now back refreshed in the pleasant evening near the beautiful gardens of the Senate building.

The onset of spring has also (somewhat) managed to bring back the poetic side of the author, who had almost lost this facet of his (ahem...) literary personality (excuse me?) in the cold winter gloom (Despite all the complaining, I iterate the fact that winter continues to be my second most-favourite season, after the rainy season)...

You know it's spring
when you don't crawl more into your quilt when the alarm rings,
but jump out of it to enjoy the beautiful morning,
as the koel joyously sings.

You know it's spring
when your mind is at its creative peak,
listening to the grass' chatter
and hear the trees speak.

They love it with their leaves back
to their bright green selves,
the dried brown leaves remembered
as they're put into history's dusty shelves.

The virus of optimism
strikes again, people infected at large;
they don't cry out in pain nor writhe in discomfort,
but smile and into the breeze they barge!

Out into the open, where the wind dances
in joy and welcomes back
its long-lost companion and bids goodbye
to the lazy winter slack.

You know it's spring
when your author's back with yet another stupid rhyme
intoxicated he is with the wine of delight,
and now, he's succeded in wasting 187 seconds of your time!