Students During Exam Time

Complaining about exams has
become a recurring theme.
Honestly, it’s not as big a deal
As kids sometimes make it seem.

“Easy for you to say!”
the senior students scoff
“Seventh graders have it easy-
You have nothing to complain of!”

Here’s the thing about exams:
They merely test our memory
Not much goes into our heads
When it’s all crammed in a hurry.

There’s that one poor bloke
Who toils through the pain
Receives the fruits of labour
In form of topping once again.

They leave the class aghast
In lieu of getting applauded
The jealous ones cry “Betrayer!”
In envious tones quite morbid.

But the most infuriating
Is the one who exlaims
They never bothered to study
Yet, the most marks they gain.

There’s the confusing lot
Who really couldn’t care less
sleeping through the school year
Exams? A load of pointless stress.

And when the hellish days cease
The kids all jump for ages
Until the scores return to haunt us
We all turn into praying sages.

Whatever the grade turns out to be
We vow to next time excel
But the cycle always repeats
Shall be the same next year as well.

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Middle School Drama

To most school going children

Their lives are just the worst

Adults just have it so easy

While their lives are simply cursed!

No doubt a silly notion

But it’s true that its hard

We’re little bombs of indignation

So you’d best be on your guard.

What with lessons and exams

And that pressure to exceed-

Not to give ourselves satisfaction

But to make others pay us heed

There’s just too much competition

For the most trivial of matters

Our ‘reputation’ hanging on the line

We can’t possibly let it shatter.

There’s the middle school drama

From which we must try escape

What joy they get from spreading rumours

I haven’t understood till date.

The group forming is astounding

Kids gathering round in cliques

Eyeing others with such hatred

And other such antics.

Some teachers are odd creatures.

They have their own notions.

Our noses rubbed to the grindstone

There’s quite some unexpressed emotion.

A few good ones in the lot, sure

But it’s second nature to suspect them all

To the kids who insist despising

Each one they pass in the hall

School life can be a pain truly

The slogging makes me less than pleased

But some of the best moments reside here

I’ll smile back at these very memories.

Box Of Memories- Poem

He tucked his child in bed to sleep

In the still of the silent night

He yawned, but he had work to do

Office chores by the night lamp’s light

When from the corner of his weary eyes

A stowed away box he spied

He inched his way towards it

Swept decades of dust off its side

In mild curiosity it was opened

And these were the box’s contains:

Picture albums in black and white

Snippets of past, childhood’s remains.

The 40 year old gazed at himself

Locked in mother’s embrace

Twelve years old, young, carefree

Now a tear rolled down his face

He turn the page and stared

His heart heavier as he went on

The days with his own family

Those beautiful days were gone.

He close his eyes; before him flashed

The day which held the most regret

At 19, he had left his parents

Whom he had sworn to forget.

From a distance came a voice

“Daddy?” he heard his princess say

He yearned she’d never leave her papa

Like he abandoned his one day.

“I’m coming my love,” he smiled

Giving her soft hand a little squeeze

The lights came off and he slept,

Remembering that box of memories.

The Little Things In Life

There’s little glee that for sale

That earthly greed can purchase

Little things that make us smile

That’s where true delight emerges.

 

Laughing and dancing in the rain

The sweet scent of petrichor

Cuddling on a winter morning

Aroma of cedar and myrrh.

 

The warmth of holding hands

Crickets chirping through the night

Marshmallows toasting on a fire

A new born baby’s delight.

 

The things that warm the heart

Which repel all the strife

What truly makes us smile?

It’s the little things in life.

Unity In Diversity

What’s the colour of your skin?

Is it black, white, yellow or brown?

Physically, it sets us all apart

So wear your identity like a crown!

 

From which country to you come?

From the north, south, east or west?

You represent your land’s uniqueness

So epitomize what makes it best!

 

Your culture, your traditions, your family

Your colour, your home, your beauty

Wear your individuality as a badge

Glorify it, as is your duty!

 

Unity in Diversity. It’s what

Makes our hearts come closer

Spread brotherhood through the world

Find intimacy within exposure.

 

Without fragmentation, we are diverse

Without uniformity, we are united

Celebrate your difference my sisters

Forget the need to hide it!

Foul racism and inequality

Is going to tear the bond apart

Now or never- we must begin

To make amends we should start.

 

God blessed us all with this treasure

How thoughtful is the Almighty

We are different- exceptional

Only to shine ever more brightly.

 

 

Mystery Books

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Bone-chilling, spine tingling

Quivering with apprehension

Words entwined with mystery

Expressing unfathomable tension.

 

That feeling when you open

A new mystery book to read

Is it crime? Is it horror?

Worth giving any heed?

 

Gingerly open the volume

Skip the prologue (don’t we all!)

Dive into the literary goodness

Into the story our mind does crawl.

 

The crime hasn’t even occurred

But your head’s buzzing with guesses

When will the culprit be announced?

Who’ll be the one who confesses?

 

As the story goes your heart

Stops when the spooks begin

The way author writes it

Makes you witness the scene within.

 

With crazy happenings popping

Clues and hints dropped to examine

All the characters, crimes and mysteries

Into your excited brain you start cramming.

 

When the books starts to end

You reading in frozen concentration

Does the mystery be solved

Led by the story’s intuition.

 

It’s that strange tingling feeling

When the mind registers the brilliance

Of how the plot has been unfolded

Making teeth grinded by millions.

 

These clandestine secret tales

So chilling, you end with a shudder

But as your soul yearns for more

You can’t wait to dive into another.

Are We Really So Different?

Last month, there was an open submission of poetry from middle school students, on the topic ‘Are We Really So Different?” referring to the British Rule, aka the differences between us, as Indians and them as Britishers. This is what I submitted-the main message being celebrating our differences, respecting our history and surging ahead hand in hand. I hope you like my take on the topic! 🙂

Are we really so different?

This you may just wonder

Between the British and the Indians

Are there variances we fall under?

 

There used to be a time

Which not many of us have forgotten

When we were taken over by the British

And treatment of slavery we had gotten.

 

200 years we suffered and ached

With the thirst of freedom and liberty

Grabbed at our weaknesses with pride

‘Divide and rule’ brought them into victory.

 

They took advantage of the malice

Present in kingdom battle and meelee

But what they did bought far more agony-

67 years have passed since then today.

 

With hearts burning of patriotism

Our ancestors gifted us this nation

They fought to death with devotion

Yet, the youth doesn’t have appreciation.

 

Today, we have forgotten who we were

Clouded with Western, English influence

This revulsion is what we call ‘modern’

We must guard our culture with prudence.

 

Are we really so different?

Well I’m afraid not anymore!

If we can step back into our ethos

There’s still hope for igniting our core.

 

Being different is not a crime!

The differences make us so unique!

India is the land of colour and culture

About this we needn’t be discreet!

 

What are the characters of our country?

Excelling in art, music, science and literature

Aura of security, colour, joy and goodness

Don’t transform brilliance into a caricature.

 

We are known for our unity

We are the bigger people of the world

We unite the continents together

With Hindustan, happiness is swirled!

 

Are we really so different?

So the question you have set

Yes and no is the answer

How do I explain- it’s kismet.

 

No- we are not so dissimilar

We all are humans after all

Our origin doesn’t define character

Culture does not define one’s gall.

 

 

We all are at the top

We all have skill to exceed

English and Indian can hold hands

And together we can succeed-

 

History is history indeed-

Neither country should bring it back.

We aren’t different- God has given

Us equal form with equal knack.

 

Are we really so different?

You know what? We are indeed!

Why shy away from our uniqueness?

It is what makes us exceed.

 

Embrace your beautiful individuality

Remember how we went through adversity

We are beautiful- we are different-

We believe in unity in diversity!