The Rise of “Mr Weed”

There was a time when I was proud of my english writing skill. The feeling was so prominent in me that I was over zealous and extremely pompous about my expertize.Though the neatness in the alphabets and the sentences always played hide and seek with me and were able to elude me but the content as well as the spellings were satisfactory enough to subdue my narcissistic ego.

Then arrived the era of SMSing. It was like the Katrina(cyclone) engulfing everything which came its way.Hence it gave birth to a new language. Hmmm now lets call this language by the name of Mr Weed.I have a pretty good reason for the same.

Now the addiction of the SMSing language is so intensified these days that it reminded me of the green grass. Just like weed the more you come in its grasp the more you will enjoy its presence.

The problem is that it is not only the guy/gal who employs SMSing aka Mr Weed takes pleasure in it but also the one who comes in its contact.It is so enchanting and magnetic that others cannot resist its charm and are trapped into the maze created by Mr Weed. Now frankly speaking

I did not succumb to the evil of Mr Weed initially.I was faithful to the traditional english speaking and writing pattern. I used to feel sublime amongst the lot because of my loyalty to the language and felt unique and special .

Then one day some colleagues told me that my manner of writing a SMS was very monotonous and portrayed a fairy tale narration. This made me ponder a little and I thought that there is no harm in altering my writing ways diminutively. That would make me a better writer. Since then there is no looking back.

To show the impact of Mr Weed and to prove that how now he is my best companion I am jotting down a poem in memory of Mr Weed.

How did “You” turned into ” U”, “The” into a meager “D”,

My appetite for english was of a hippo now its turned into that of a bee.



The verbs were so elegant and articulate and always ended with a “G” (dancing. sleeping)

Now these verbs are like lame ducks and the “G” we cant anymore see (dancin, sleepin)



Mr Weed is growing rapidly day by day,

Intoxicated by its presence, on a “HIGH”we all lay.



Sooner or later Mr Weed would transform itself to greater height,

Then Ill have to change its name to Mr Meth, Missy Crystal or Mr White ( modern day drugs)



While my mind is pondering over this grave matter,

My mailbox beeps depicting a mail with “FYI”(another short form of for your information) from my superior,



I really want to pluck Mr Weed and throw him down the drain,

But then everyone is loving him so why to put my efforts in vain