THE AUTOGRAPH

When the moment of

separation becomes inevitable and

painful with the approach of the ending of our courses

in our schools and colleges

in order to get a deep

relief and joy from the inevitability

kind of escape from the gnawing pain and bitter memories

we seek an outlet to perpetuate

our intimacies with

friends and love-birds

with tears in our eyes,

we depend on autographs

scribbling something sweet and memorable

a few words of

vibrant love and affection

the promise of meeting

at any of the junctions in life

accidentally, quite accidentally

in the future,  by our classmates

and close-friends

wishing all good wishes

throughout life.

Passing autographs from one to another

for keeping their priceless words of love

and wishes

to keep them  like an invaluable treasure in our

personal collections

to go thru them when

even memories of our schools and college life

engulf us, conquer us

the delight, elation and

painfully sweet memories

with which we are showered with blessings

galore are inexplicable.

But

whenever I watch

a cricket match, football match or

for that matter

any match, or a get together

of tinsel stars under starry nights,

the ones who go gaga

after cricket players, football players

or film stars in scintillating dresses 

get their autographs signed

the cavalier manner each

celebrity signs each autograph 

without even  gifting

a glance at the ones 

who stretch out his/her autograph

literally, everything looks too mechanical

I feel pain and

angry not only toward

the one begging a signature

in his/her autograph but also towards the celebrities.

Like love and affection

at least a warm

smile or having one or two words of

love with one who

begs to get his/her

autograph signed

is something despicable

I feel.