My 8th year at school,
Was my very best year when I was cool.
Nine months of friends and studies
Could catch up with those nostalgic feelings.
I wonder if I had one more year to spend time with them,
Rather than sitting in the den.
The last working day on March 24th,
Where flashing combined with lighting cameras;
Everyone saying-“Bye, bye, I’m leaving school”,
And some others-“hoping to see you all next year”…
Crying with emotions,
That was the day when I turned ferocious.
Cries all over the school,
Some voices telling-“Never I could see this school once again”
Some only feel like poking themselves with a knife.
June, July, when chatting goes tremendous,
August, September, when studies goes on rattling,
October, when the happiest month begins,
November, when studies goes on ditching,
Now, I only feel like
Read more →tempting myself with
A new year of Jan and Feb,
And then now,
Everyone runs helter-shelter,
To say “Good Bye” to the old, and “Hello” to the new;
Emotions combined with desire, the only thing that I wanted to say that time was---
“My very best year of school couldn’t be this worse…”
I’d never forget this year and this day in my life.
The nostalgia of this year,
Will always be flashing in my mind.
I wrote a poem and gave to everyone to remember me with this school-
It ran like this:
  
  
The very best year,
As everyone knows,
We, students hope to see everyone once again,
And going partying with everyone once again,
Don’t imagine this as a dream,
It’s just an ice full of cream…
Remembering those awesome days,
When we all ran with food stuff;
Dancing and figuring ourselves to the extremes,
Performing huge shows at the stages;
Just for a remembrance, I’d say…
“I hope to see you all once again”
Bye… Bye…
Have a fruitful year with many lots of friends like us….

Why need a life with hearts broken into two,
And mind into four?
Why need a life with hatred and enmity?
Something to share,
Someone to contribute…
I cannot get anything better than you-DIARY,
Where memories concoct with desire,
Where contemplations hold up on career,
Encouraging, excluding the heart-broken sorrows…
Where you look like a bird without wings,
Challenging the unobtrusive miracles,
Stimulating the conspicuous sensations,
Co-existing with humanness and laid-back lives,
And at last terminating a year with something special…

Days that were, perhaps at the pinnacle of glory,
Years which were, lively and quickly,
Months that were, peaceful and brightly
Are no-where in locality,
But now weeks that are, entangled with serenity.

Ten months of tenth and its syllabus
Ten months of books and its relevance
Now to only have a glimpse of that nostalgia-
Of the hot summer days
And the cool windy days.

Started with books and teachers
Ended with exams and results.
Three sections of bonded unity
Encompassing hundred students of cordiality

And more teachers and staff of humongous sympathy.

Days when we had no books
But went to school blissfully.
The months of confusion and commotion
Are only to be thought and felt
But not be met.

Those were the days that cannot be withheld
But can be relished even after years to be dealt.
The times that were never like before
To leave incredible footprints for the years more
And to leave delightful memories forevermore.

Gently and more tranquilly if we look
There will be significant people we partook
With laid-back fellowships.
But those are the real days of tribute
Ever, that year (2011-12)
To be stamped in everyone’s memory
Ever, that year …
To stand as a much sought-after year in our lives…

You will not believe this:
The uniform peeping out of the cupboard
Giving way for the cockroach to tread past the wardrobe.
The drapes shut on one side and undone on another,
For which even the squirrel on the window-sill sat in wonder!
The wet towel on top of the chair
And the filthy clothes smelling the air.
The books lying at all angles of the table,
Liable to tumble on a shake!
Glasses of water near the crib-
Half poured and some lingering for the next kick!
The timetable stuck on the wall,
Amid its spare glue inviting the obnoxious dust.
The calendar showing the last year
Besides the pen stand stuffed with unusable markers.
The school bag flung over the bed
Coupled with its stuff swarming past its outlet.
The carpet twisted tall,
Before the door slammed against the wall.
And a girl snoozing in the bed
With a book on her face-
Her finger pressing the snooze button in relentless pace,
And her feet kept over the computer maze!
You tell it is me-
A room encompassing horrid stuff during Read more →exams—
Yeah! It seemed familiar!!!

Very few are the possessions that live for me,
Not humans, not animals, not birds
But a slight miniature pencil
Which I’ve saved for years,
Innocently with tears…

Neither my hand, nor my mind did think of it,
Until it shadowed me day and night.
Seldom did I know I used it,
But care and lovingness prolonged…

Minute by minute, second by second
I watched it go out of my sight
When I think I’m misplacing it-
I sense it close me.
When I think I’ve misplaced it-
I perceive it before me.

That truly adorable pencil never fades away.
I compose my lovely poems with it,
I sketch the gorgeous flowers with it
Never has it gone too small to hold
As, when I really want to use, I catch a glimpse of it…

When my life was a hue and cry,
When my sorrows had no end
Where there wasn’t a place where happiness could be spent
Where my thoughts and desires couldn’t cope up,
Where my heart was breaking down into tiny fragments
When my love to someone else was awful,
Where life was just a desire to dream about
And when I couldn’t find peace,
I FOUND YOU, MY DIARY!
In a place I can’t think or dream about,
I found you, my glorious diary.
In such a beautiful land
You took the time to admire my sand.
From then on,
I got someone to hear my agonies and aspirations,
That’s when I distinguished what life genuinely meant to me…
I wrote everything that came from deep within,
Each and every day I had the fondness of writing you,
You fodder me with the land of happiness which I’ve never met,
What else can a human ask from you, MY DIARY?

Cricket is the only game which lures me so much;
And then engrosses me so much.
That craze would never drive out of me…
My inspiration was ‘Yuvraj Singh’,
Only then I arose to identify that King.
Once Yuvi’s record of six sixes in six *****,
The firmament was incredible for certain minutes:
That was the first time I witnessed cricket,
And India’s triumph provided me a mind-blowing buzz to watch cricket,
Nevertheless continuing with ***** and wickets.
I would turn crazy when Indian cricketers approach the ground,
And that would certainly not halt lest they are made proud.
This T20 shadowed by IPL,
Made me to by stand that awe-inspiring sport.
Chennai Super Kings-my favorite,
Followed by Royal Challenges Bangalore …
And lots more hilarious teams and cricketers.
When Chris Gayle approaches…
Tsunami warning must be lifted and “Gayle” (gale) warning must be given!
That’s how cricket relocates…
Most matches concluding in the closing over
And some others in the finishing ball…
The most exhilarating sport
Read more →and the format-
IPL is all fun for me…
With cheer leaders and the draped studio;
With cameras and videos
And at last the much awaited IPL trophy-
Cricket is all that it needs!!!