It’s seven, time to wake Ugh!
Please leave me alone for God’s sake,
But Mumma won’t listen & would continue to quake.
With a brush in hand, I rushed to bathroom. Everything’s going so fast with zero resume, and then I was awfully ready to wear my wonted costume.
With a toast in hand, I rushed to my destination without any stand.
My destination? Just like a fairyland.
My watch bawled that I was late.
Had a great grin seeing my chum waiting at the gate.
Everyday being late still no regret.
Rushing to the classroom, national anthem was the only thing that could stop us.
And here comes our yellow bus.
The deadly stare of teacher made us ready for some cuss.
Long lasting lazy lectures of language,
confusing Marathi & English full of adage.
And the funny English of the Hindi sir; l wondered how could he manage?
Awful Mathematics; Science? Bye bye!
Waiting for the recess bell & have my cheesy pie.
You had a teacher crush? Say yes,don’t lie. Ding-dong & the heavenly bell rang.
Rushing through the corridors with my gang,
opening our tiffins & everyone’s ready to fang Interesting History & it’s mystery;
still don’t know why I learnt Geography.
And my favourite place library where I slept peacefully.
Throwing the paper balls & the chunks of eraser in galore,
this is how starts our third world war.
Principal is on the way! Hey you, please shut the door.
Pen fight & thumb fight,
during the P.T. period I broke one garden light.
Everything’s now detached, l wish I could somehow reunite.
Even the boring speech of principal was special that day,
because my school life was going somewhere far away.
It was my farewell & I never knew I would cry all the way.
With the best outfit I farewelled my teachers & mates,
I even hugged my foe without any hate.
Years will pass but I’ll still remember this date
My friends promised to remain the same.
But the three streams divided & they just remained on social media & the frame.
I want all those stuffs & again play this blissful game.
I used to hate when I was there,was I a fool?
I want to again run according to this schedule.
Passing through that street every time, l feel numb, tears rolled down saying that’s my school.
– Chirag Jagad