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Daddy's Little Girl - A Poem from IIM Kozhikode

Apr 10, 2015 | 2 minutes |

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(After writing about her biking escapade here, Somya Barpanda is back with a poem now)

The day I set foot in B-school;
I was a mere “kid”; innocent & uncool,
A teetotaller; a daddy’s girl;
Naïve, gullible, way too judgemental,
Scandalised by things small and silly;
Worried about choosing friends unwisely.

The weekend parties; gave me the shock of my life;
As I saw my classmates go whacky & wild,
Wide eyed I saw bottles of rum & whisky;
Gulped down with much ease & ecstasy,
Disgusted I would walk out,
Bury my head in the pillow;
To shut Honey Singh out.

“No…No… I don’t drink!”
“What?! You must be surely kidding”.
And so I declined night after night,
They offered me Old Monk;
I stuck to my glass of Sprite!

And thus it was no surprise;
When I was labelled a “kiddo”,
Left to my own;
Sans any friends or foes.

But then one day;
When summer placement rejections;
Were too much to take,
I emptied one full bottle of Scotch whisky…
At my roomie’s day zero placement party…
And became an overnight celebrity!!

The new found star-power was infectious;
I was now revered; Of that I was conscious,
“Drinking isn’t that bad after all!”
I said to myself;
Then to one and all,
It had helped me earn jocund company;
Freed me of stress; rid me of uncertainty.

The bottle became a pal I constantly fell back on;
Especially once when I was heavily heartbroken,
Yes!! I have come of age;
Dropped that act of innocence; left behind that stage.

But when my cell phone rings each night;
And I hear the voice on the other side,
I realise feeling downright dull;
I still want to be that teetotaller,
I still want to be daddy’s lil’ girl…