Schoolage, the termination

51

By drigit

CC-BY licensed. The image is used to describe the situation only. The characters involved doesn't consist the Author or are not the contacts of him
CC-BY licensed. The image is used to describe the situation only. The characters involved doesn't consist the Author or are not the contacts of him

To tell you about this poetry

Written just for Vikasians, (Students of Vikas, the concept school, Hyderabad India)

The content of the poem is based on my experience in Vikas for the year 2007-08. All the characters mentioned are real and might be unknown to the other sections of the same year batch!

The Poem:

Secured two years of experience,
dwelling in Vikas for words I can't mince!
For me it's a school of spiritual science,
where I believed myself to be an appliance.

Silent and sincere me,
stepped into seniority as to be!
But diligent and dangerous me,
faded-in to class TEN, too frenzy!

Innovated innovations destined free
in my mind, to set me a streaming bee!
My first day, I said, "Excuse me!"
to my tri-year class teacher Subashini!

Saw the glory in some new faces,
while others welcomed me.
The bell rang, Interchanged period.
Entered with a whoosh, Kondayya : Class Illumined!

From then, made-up friendship in natural says,
with a little quarrels and gossips off the ways.
Directing a fewer mischiefs of melody,
rewarded my class with captions of celebrity.

We stayed long over for months together,
while endeared hilariously and ramped all over.
Kinship of physics : Chandrasekhar!
That of Chemistry Sandhya Rani!

Participation in house assemblies,
education in extra-curriculars,
Entertainment in midnight functions,
quarrels in classroom junctions.
Friendship barriers, inner-talents, soothsay traits,
and this adamant list goes infinite.

Biological zest by Usha Rani,
Formal Hindi by Teja Vani.
Ex-scoped English by Hanumaan Shastry
Escape to dining hall for Bread and pastry.

We drowned in flicks,
for the examination pen-clicks!
The terminating day arrived,
with a gush of tears: toxicity to be deprived.

Filling up 37 slam books pen ink off.
Giving some gestures, parting from the staff.
"We don't get school age again!" we cried.
But back in Home, our current lives deceased!

jahnavi 14 months ago

incredible!!

sandhya 22 months ago

very nice

varshitha 23 months ago

awesome yaar

nandakumar 23 months ago

very nice poem.it reminds me our schooling.

bharath garlapati 23 months ago

kummesav ra,,,,,,,,,,ohooo,,,,ahaaaaaa,,,,abbabbbabaaaa.......

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