My Almamater

Down the memory lane

I walk back into my school days...

The first to greet is the garden

Bearing roses, lilies, and violets..the little heaven!

Silent steps lead me to the auditorium 

The chants of Our Father still plays the airy harmonium

Then I turn towards the nostalgic corridors 

The witness to our gossips and giggles galore

Through them, I peep into my beloved classroom 

Standing neatly decked like a new bridegroom!

The same blackboard; the same chalk

But neither the same flowers nor the same stalk...

My gaze halts at a particular spot, where 

I used to study and chatter with my lot

I felt if I pressed my ears hard,

the voice of my dear teachers could still be heard.

With moist eyes, I hurry back

Only to be stopped by the silent, solemn stack

The library-one of my favourite haunts

The hunting of Enid Blyton still taunts..

What days were those! Real or surreal

Whatever they were-they are moments you treasure.

My dear friends and foes, who shared my early morning dew

and the Monday morning blues

have all vanished leaving no clue..

But what keeps them in my thoughts 

Is my dear Almamater acting like an eternal glue!