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Rohit Rohan
Delhi   
rohit chhabra
delhi    Newly born Wannabe poet

Poems

ROHIT YADAV Apr 2018
Chamakte -damkate chehro main bhi
Uski thi pahchan mujhe
"Ek sanwali ladki se tha pyar mujhe

Wo pagal thi meri hokar'
Wo roti thi mujhse lad-kar'
Jaan waan toh baate thi""
Wo  kehti thi ( humsath) mujhe '
Ek sanwli ladki se tha pyar mujhe

Wo ladti' kuch kuch kahti thi mujhe
Par aah karu Jo toh samjh leti thi mujhe..
Uske pyar ka ikraar tha mujhe ...
Ek sanwali ladki se tha pyar  mujhe

karu Jo khata toh tok deti thi mujhe
Par jaane se pahle ROK leti thi mujhe ..
Main hasta tha""uske dil main kahi toh basta tha
Ye ahsas tha mujhe ...
Ek sanwali ladki se tha pyar mujhe ...

Par

Kab duri badhi,kab wo badle
Kab hum aade or wo lade
KUCH abhaas nahi mujhe ..

Chalo phir bhi ...

Uske dil pe dastak di
Kae baar minnat ki ke geenti tak na yaad mujhe ...
Ek sanwli ladki se tha pyar mujhe ...

Waqt ne kuch or karwat li
Sari kasme todi ***"
Meri yaado ko bhulaya"
Pyar,waade,wafa ko jalaya"
Uske hatho se mili bas raakh mujhe
Ek sanwali ladki se tha pyar mujhe


U toh uska ab kuch pata nahi ""
Beete kai saal toh rahi na kuch baate yaad mujhe ..
Par
ek dhadkan, ek saans, or uski aakhiri baat hain yaad mujhe ...
Ek sanwali ladki se tha pyar mujhe ..

Naaraj hua Jo ladta khudse ..
Tum kyu ** ab bhi yaad mujhe..
Kyu usse tha or abhi bhi hain ye anchaha sa pyaar mujhe ......
Ek sanwali ladki se (hain) pyar mujhe
Phoebe buffay Dec 2022
“Can miles truly separate you from friends? If you want to be with someone you love, aren’t you already there?”
A very good evening to one and all present here. Today Im  here in front of all of you as we approach the end of our schooling days.
But i believe half of my job is already done here because its not me but our scribbled stories on our school benches that will dive us into this beautiful journey of nostalgia.
Although walls cant speak but the doodles on walls of our school bathroom can surely make us reminisce those malicious scenes of crimes we have done there.

Little did we know how quick ten years would pass by just like that.We have bloomed into  flowers from tiny little saplings in this orchard of childrens Academy. And in no time, us bunch of flowers will be unveiled in front of the whole world.
I still remember in flashes, the days of our pre primary section where we would yearn for that one cup of hot chocolate milk that would be served to us at least once a week. The same craving, in the primary section transformed into love for shezwan vada pav which still continues to be our favourite. Maturity then peaked and we entered secondary section to disrupt the whole world and win the worst class award right in the beginning of sixth std.
For me Children’s Academy is not just a school- but a journey that all of us have endured for these past ten years. Living every moment as If there was no end to it because that’s how it exactly felt like ! But today im realizing how wrong I was. It ends! The journey sure does- but the bonds and the friendship is never going to end. I wish someone had warned me that more than the people, it’s those moments that I will miss the most. Now, we will never be able to dance in front of our friends classroom and make them laugh during an on going lecture while we were on our way to the washroom. Now reena miss will never nag us for using the word “abbey”. Those menacing threats by Suddha Shetty miss to apply the canteen oil on our hair if by chance we showed up with washed dry hair to  school instead can never be relived. Now nikita miss will never  ask you about your missing id card and ask u to tuck in your shirt. Whom will we have psychology sessions with if not our bhagayshree miss.Whom will we wish suprabhat guruji to now? Who will leave us discombobulated with their flabbergasting vocab if not our beloved English teachers madhavi miss and  sen gupta miss?  not even paresha miss’ chemical reactions could beat our instant change in  our demeanour from a loud noisy fish market to an attentive obedient class when rohit sir or mallya maam would be on rounds.  Its hard to believe that no matter what we do, no one will replace the void of affection of our teachers in this emancipation. Its hard to believe that how all of these annoying rules that have  been playing in the background of our life will suddenly just cease to exist. Its hard to believe that the building of children’s academy that we visited everyday will no  longer even be a part of our life. Its hard to believe that now we wont see Vipin sir laughing at his own jokes before we all start laughing… just by watching each other laugh.
The cherished and hallowed corridors of Children’s Academy will become our Alma Mater that one day will surely be revisted by us to share the pride of our collective success, one day. These golden memories and the fact mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell will never be forgotten by us. And for that I can’t thank bhakti miss and simi miss enough!

And lastly to end my speech i wish to quote no one. I wish to end my speech just by singing the first  two lines of our school song. Lets chime in for the last and final time and sing it in our heads.
“ the bells of our school, ring out far and wide
Their chimes make our childhood so happy and bright!”
Gaurav Gurung Aug 26
Is it merely just a paper?

Born from nature, molded by hands

Timekeeper of history, curator of mortal demands!

From the moment a kid scribbles their first doodles

To the moment a person records his last.

Is it merely just a paper?



A child’s canvas of boundless dreams,

Where letters dance, and colors gleam.

An artist’s appetite for creation,

Where he shapes his imagination.



A man’s plea of proposal, a revolutionist’s voice

A royal decree, a gift! Or a nation’s cunning ploys,

An innocent airplane, a love letter or a terrible ransom,

A waste or a cheque of money- quite handsome!



It has the power to bring tears or a simple smile,

A bridge between hearts, across many a mile

In ink, in lead, in blood or in gold,

Written in it are valiant stories to be foretold



Written in it are-

“A B C D”,  “1 2 3 4”

“Apne matbhedo ko bhuljao aur Halla Bol !”

“Rohit weds Archana”

“He fought with honor”

“Sorry mom and dad, I couldn’t make it”



Carrier of Joy, Carrier of Sorrow

Plight of yesterday, Flight of tomorrow!



Is it merely just a paper?
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