If A R Rahman were my neighbour

It's a feeling I would savor,

If A R Rahman became my neighbour.

It would be an extraordinary case,

If our current neighbours he would replace.

The current family next door,

Is antisocial, they're a bore.

They're meanies, don't like peoplies,

And I would be grateful, very deeply,

If I had a neighbour less foul,

Who smiles more often than he scowls.

'Course, if it's Rahman the Great,

Then I would celebrate,

To all my friends, I would show off,

And though they'd laugh, though they'd scoff,

Once they knew I was telling the truth, 

I'd be very popular among the youth.

And when for an autograph, they'd ask,

Why yes! I'd do that task,

Give my neighbour a sheet and ask him to sign, 

And say 'it's for a friend of mine!'

When I first realize he's next door,

With joy, my heart will soar.

I'll say 'hi' whenever I have the chance, 

And internally, do my happy dance.

And when he smiles back, I'll pump a fist,

And tell him I'm a pianist.

That I'm one of the best he'll ever see, 

And that my fingers fly across the keys.

And one day he'll want to hear,

And so, I'll play my best piece with cheer.

He'll applaud and say, 'That came from the heart,

You're bound to be the next Mozart,

And if you want support, I'll have your Bach,

And make sure there are no resources you lach.

You'll be famous at a very young age,

You'll do live concerts, you'll own the stage.

And it's the least to say, you play very well,

You just showed me an excellent version of Jingle Bells!'

We're going to become very close, 

The best of buds, and everyone knows.

Into his house I'll barge,

And he'll teach me music free of charge.

And if by a studio, I'm rejected,

He'll say that their ears don't work, that they're defected.

And one day a studio will see my gift, 

And they will give me a financial lift.

And soon enough, when I'm on stage,

I'll leave all in a dage.

And after the concert, it will be time to thank,

My guide, my teacher, my support bank, 

Who taught me to wait for the fruits of labour,

And the crowd goes crazy as my neighbour,

Mr. Rahman, will walk on stage in hesitatation,

The audience will give him a standing ovation.

***

Do you hear that horrid shouting?

It's my neighbours, back from an outing.

Obviously, something's gone horribly wrong,

For this shrieking to end, it's gonna take long.

Why am I stuck with such terrible folk?

Fate can play such cruel jokes.

To have them gone would be a boon,

Mr. A R Rahman, please come soon.

This was the poem I wrote for the competition at Jyothi Kendriya Vidyalaya. I mean no offense to my real neighbours. They are in fact wonderful people.