The awaited Last

Source: Google Images

Firsts are so overrated.

Now that I sit back and think about it-

My first day of school,

Was hell unleashed, no less,

And the first time I cooked,

The food was a pathetic mess.

My first workout left me in searing pain,

Unmotivated and out of breath;

And in the first shot I downed-

I swear I tasted death.

My first crush-

How I couldn't even make eye contact with him,

Even the first instance I fell in love,

My heart emerged barely intact while the stars in the night-sky seemed dim.

Though some firsts are delicious like the first sip of morning coffee,
The first drops of rain in summer and the first salary,
What befuddles me is the larger than life obsession with certain Firsts.

Brimming uncertain with hopeful prayers,

Some Firsts are quite a sad affair.

And I would rather forget these shenanigans of the past,

For I want to live for my Lasts.

Hear me out before the seeds of doubt sprout making you skeptical,

Think about the hullabaloo surrounding adieus and endings,

Aren't sunsets proof enough that even endings can be beautiful?

For endings pave the way to new beginnings.

And as much as it is romanticized,

Let's face it-

First love is too trial-error,

Frivolous, naive, a celebrated con;

I would rather be somebody's Last,

The Home they settled on.

Even in terms of words and sounds,

Firsts are blabber,

Last- profound;

For, if ever you visit a convict's cell,

In tones unmatched they'd tell,

About last wishes and their magic spell.

While firsts are ripe and raw and new,

Lasts offer a permanent refuge.

Argue we may back and forth,

But truth be told,

Firsts are for juveniles,

Curious, anxious after a Breezer's curse,

Hoping for a fairy-tale while wishing on a star.

Whereas Lasts are the wiser of the lot,

Learned, patient, certain, sagacious

 Dining with fine wines in a passionate discourse.

And I like my life akin to my wine-

Aged, strong and just the right mix,

Achieved en route to bliss.
Perhaps, after many trials.