Empty, light and dull,
My school bag rests on one of the walls,
Once full with books notebooks and pens,
Now bear and deserted it looks small.

Yesterday, while clearing my shelf,
My class VIII classwork notebook popped up,
Those were also the days,
When our copies were neatly covered up.

These days I sleep late at night
because Now there is no waking up early rule,
These days I wake up at nine,
As now I am not running late for school.

My wardrobe is full of colourful shirts
But wearing the white one daily I miss,
No sport shoe can ever match
Wearing white PT shoes bliss.

While searching for a bowl I found my Tiffin,
But there was no lunch in it
Also there aren’t those people around,
Who jumped attacked and finished it within a minute.

I still hear the interval bell,
In front of my TV when I sit,
I still hear those gossips and laughs,
While finishing my meal, those several hands I miss.

I was bored of studying the subject,
But I had no water bottle to fill,
And no school corridors to take a round,
I realised it wasnt the fifth lesson in school,
So I quietly turned back to my musics sound.

Every time I doodle
I remember bulletin board
I remember my house duties
Every time my nail grows

It’s raining and snowing these days
But nothing is as fresh as sitting next to the window in the class
Blankets in Quilt dont allow us to get out of our beds,
But nothing is as cosy asSitting on the seat at the last.

Donning my new dress, I was getting my picture clicked,
But it wasn’t as special as our last seat selfie,
CCD’s coffee was also not able to,
Match the taste of a canteen’s tea.

I go out of my home several times,
But never does it match the bunking thrill,
I take various Scooty rides,
But never am I able to showcase my reach school within five minutes skill.

Every time I get a call from my classmate,
Our whispers I miss,
Every second every hour every day
For those days to return I wish

At 2:00 in the noon
I go to bed for my nap
I miss returning Home from school
I wish those days could be swapped..

Sometimes we don’t realise
How the smallest things have a large part to play
And as the days passed, and time flies by,
It’s only memories that we are left with to say.

Every single thing at home
Reminds me of school life
I want to relive those golden days
Just one more time.

A couple of months from now
We will officially be ex schoolites
Teachers scoldings punishments and failures
After that For every single moment we will strive.

We're all little butterflies,
Some of us are bigger than others,
And some of us are tiny.
No matter what happens,
You have to keep going.
Life is the air we struggle to fly through.

The air is contaminated,
So some of us have a hard time breathing.
There are tornadoes,
Which the bigger butterflies can easily fly through,
While the tiny ones get swept away.
Life is something we all try to fly through,
But most don't survive.

Then there are the ones who like to capture us,
The ones we call "Society".
They put us in jars and we are confined,
There is no space to just fly and be free.
They like to judge us,
Watch us struggle to be free for their own entertainment.

Life is the air we fly in.
Society is the thing that confines us.
And we...
Are the butterflies who try to brave through it all.
Some survive,
While others don't.

She loves her.

She loved her
with little rays of sunshine
and
Pitter patter tears.

Her love was like dew drops
on grass blades
on a misty morning.
Like a butterfly loitering around a little girl.
Like money on a starved beggars hand.

It was a humane love
built with
illogical trust and belief.
It was made of burnt bricks
of built up grief and an exhaustion
which comes from an eternal search
for a handful of love.

Her love was the size of her soul.
It was next to everything she would own even after death.

~~~~~~~

Sunshine