I dream.
I dream every day of going back to my school.
I know it’s not possible.
I dream.
I dream of wearing those yellow and green robes again,
Wandering around wearing our badges.
I dream of that pathway
Where I used to spend most of my time.
I hear that it has been fenced now.
Back then we all wanted
For the morning assembly to be over.
Now I remember it, and weep.
I miss the “zero period”,
I miss the ground,
Now running around it is all I want.
The pebbles around the campus,
I have never found their like again,
If only I could hear them once more.
I remember my teachers,
I remember my principal,
I wish I could go back again.
Literature classes I miss the most,
When even Shakespeare looked like our own.
I hear that Macbeth is now gone.
I miss the canteen’s food,
I remember the hungry crowd,
I can still hear Raja Bhaiya screaming.
I miss the days of inspection
When carrying around notebooks was an honour.
No such cachet is bestowed upon me anymore.
We all mocked the choir then,
But “father in heaven”, “more love, more power”
Is all I can sing right now.
I miss the shiny magazine cover,
Which I can still smell.
I can still feel the texture on the envelope.
I loved the Christmas celebration there
When we used to celebrate Kris Kindle.
That is one thing I still cherish.
“Sports Day” practices were the best,
When the drums used to roar,
And the entire crowd used to cheer.
When the last bell would ring,
I used to run away straight to my home.
Not aware of what I was leaving behind.
I write all of this,
Hoping that one day I might go back.
Alas! I cannot.