FROM ITS EYES
FROM ITS EYES
It's me! The school! To show you from my eyes!
Ugh, that ever crying kid,
The one that sleeps,
The teacher's pet,
The ever hungry one,
The home sick one,
The one that loves me!
(First to Fifth)
Those WWE practices sessions,
Those scratches on knees,
And the cycling gone wrong.
Playing after school hours,
Mamma sighing at the dirty uniform,
Muddy shoes and worn off soles.
The candy man
that spoilt your teeth With cavity
and your taste buds with sweetness.
Hand cricket during classes,
Stone, paper or scissors?
The walls you inked,
The assembly you bunked,
Never done a project,
You call out, "mama, have to submit it tomorrow".
Health check ups – seeing height, weight and selecting the Bheem,
Writing names on the board,
Of the ones who spoke and the ones you didn't like!
-Why wouldn't I grow up soon? A question you will later wish you never asked.
Faking being matured,
Boys and Girls made to sit separately.
Blooms here the first love – I am watching you,
You write on my benches –
Names, FLAMES and Blame Games.
When I made you all study three instead of one science,
And rethink education by introducing history!
There were the dominating ones,
Ones that listened,
Ones that pretended,
Ones that corrected the teacher,
Ones who didn't even care,
Ones that played sports – those special permission peeps,
Labs, so what is it when the blue litmus turns red?
The skeleton you thought your classmate would marry,
And the wrong observations you made with the prism.
IT? Never cared except for those good Air conditioners and hidden games.
Pacing fast with innumerable tests and revisions,
Sucking your last energy in the tenth,
Seeing some happy, some disappointed, some jealous.
-How can I tell you? You are so much more than your grades.
You realised my presence,
Drifting to complete absence,
You share the food with the whole class,
Some suddenly become nerds,
Some still don't care,
Now I freed you of all the subjects,
Asked you to specialise,
Made your friends separate,
Still some first loves exist,
Stealing glances from corridors and windows.
Your teacher becomes your best friend,
Still PTM meetings are dreaded,
Constant improvement, constant fear for boards,
Those regular doses of morning motivation,
Special classes, extra classes, holiday classes, tuitions, unit tests, weekly assignments, monthly papers, periodic tests, model exams, revision exams, pre-boards, boards!
That moment of final realisation,
You are gonna say good-bye to me.
Seeing you all well dressed,
Singing, dancing, eating, talking, photographs, autographs.
Writing slam books,
Some pages confess love,
Some besties for life to soon a hi-bye friend,
Some classmates to become your best friends.
I saw you as a kid,
Gave you scars too,
But loved you dearly.
For every time you sit on the desk,
I dream all your dreams,
I feel all that you have felt,
I want to send you with
Memories fresh and heart pure
Of selfless love and companion,
True to humanity
In high spirits and dreams,
Fueled by your own,
Individually and not impersonation.
-you once cried,
But everytime you pass by me,
You look at me and smile!