Somewhere it rains,
here the mind takes an umbrella.
Small memories still linger in the heart.

A bundle of books in one hand,
a box of food in the other,
four friends surrounded by blissful wit
and happiness.

The PET teacher whistles,
the music plays in the school prayer,
the bell rings after the classes,
a thousand such sounds in my
school bodhi tree.

When got a punished with wooden stick
on the hand for being late,
and got ear screwed
for forgetting a maths note.
The science teacher scolded that
the drawing was not correct.
After writing the my first poem,
the class clapped their hands.
It's still sweet for me inside and
give me beautiful pain.

Let's eagerly wait for
the PET class to come.
The math teacher borrows the class
and puts the soil in the dream.

I still haven't forgotten the faces
of my friends who lived that day.
Anbu Selvan, Azad Sharif
address not available yet.

One has eaten rice by another tiffin box
and that sweetness yet to be taste it.
The debt to the lady who sold the manga
is yet to be paid.

Father and mother never came
to buy progress card,
parents meeting never held a frequently
and never made accusations of children

The school never ran shops
and sold uniforms,
never said you are a student
if you wear socks & shoes

Every class is special,
there is no special class.
We have learned all the arts but have
never performed cultural tumbling.

The bit has never been in exam and
the building fund has never been collect

I would like to tell the student of today
that I am proud to have attended
such a prestigious school in my life.

© aV ​✍🏾