DAD

Take me away
To the world of my dreams,
Please lead the way
You know what I mean,
Take me to heaven
Let me rest there,
Or just take me to hell
And let me pay.


For dreaming to be someone
That I could never be,
For doing things that you ne’er expected.
I know how hard
For you, it must have been.
Holding my hand like that
You always lead.


My guiding light,
My pillar of strength,
A shoulder to cry on,
A life-long friend,
And you make me glad,
Oh! I love you dad!

Promise me
That you’ll be near.
Don’t ever go
I hold you dear.
Take me with you
And set me free.
Or leave me back here
And let me be.


Open your eyes for once
And see the world around.
Please this time
Do what I say.
Just look at the colours
And radiance abound.
Please God, do grant this wish
Of mine, I pray.


Your benign love,
That warm embrace,
A pleasant smile,
On that charming face,
All that makes me glad,
Oh! I love you dad!

Illusion

When the sun shines,
And the rain pours,
I see you there,
Just like before,
Calling out my name,
Looking out for me,
Standing there,
All alone.
I know it’s not true.
Still I can’t believe,
You’re an illusion!

That first kiss
On the night before,
You slipped the ring,
Promised ne’er to go,
I loved you.
You loved me.
But together we were not meant to be.
I know you were not there.
Still I can’t believe,
You’re an illusion!

Gazing at the sky,
Looking at that star,
All I wish for is that faint smell of yours
Wanna hug you, hold you,
Get lost in those deep eyes of yours.
Baby, come to me, hold me, kiss me,
Till death do us apart.
But how could you,
Coz you’re an illusion!
An illusion…
An illusion…

What QMS taught me!!

(Disclaimer: The following post is a work of pure fiction (and of 14 years spent in exile and of being stuck up at home with nothing to do and nowhere to go). Any resemblance to any person living or dead (or hanging somewhere in between) is merely coincidental)

Having spent 14 years in Queen Mary’s School or QMS as it is fondly known, I noticed some totally bizarre stuff happening there and thought of putting it up here.
I hope my friends from the above-mentioned school would agree.

1) Every teacher might have a first name but it is as ‘sacred’ as a certain Mr. Himesh Reshammiya’s secret to nasal baritone.

2) Every strict teacher will be either bloated or having a bob-cut or both.
Don’t believe me? Check out Solly, Bissu, Tomchi, Kumar (feel free to add some more. I know there’s no dearth of such teachers).

3) ‘Ek baal’ and ‘Do baal’- the names supposedly given to the two lab ass’ are not actually ‘given’; their real names are "Mr. Iqbal" and "Mr. Dobal"

4) Every other girl is your sister! It doesn’t matter calling them so makes your parents also the parents of a certain 4000 girls more!

5) The washrooms are infested with poltergeists which take huge pleasure in making sure that the school loos resemble the roadside ’sulabh shauchalyas’ at any cost so that the students do not develop a false sense of cleanliness!

6) No. of tests per year is always greater than the no. of days in a year!

7) The school courtyard resembles the Kargil warfront during classes. Step into it and… “Poof”… you’re gone!

8) The creature that resembles the endangered white elephant is actually the school tailor in his trademark white pathani.

9) Our dearest principal- a certain Mrs. Kapoor, no matter how hard she tries, yet is always late for the functions as she has to beg to her maid to lend her some sarees because she herself doesn’t seem to have any!

10) And she’s in a foul mood lately as her maid has refused to lend her any more sarees unless she’s given a pay rise!

11) The huge mess of textbooks, files, test papers, assignments, projects etc. outside the staff room is not the result of the place being treated as a dumping ground the year round but a conscious effort by the dear teachers to save the school from the volcano underneath the pile, lest it erupts!

12) Authorities in the past were in awe of Jassi’s character 50 years before she even came into existence and hence the present uniform!

13) Present authorities are planning to introduce ‘bora’ (sack) as the new uniform because they feel that the present uniform gives the false of impression of the school being in a better condition than it actually is!!

14) The swimming pool is only named so. In reality, it is a top-secret, heavily-guarded training ground for kapoor’s cats which themselves are not cats but disguised Martians, on a special mission to keep an eye on kapoor lest she takes over their planet and rusticates their king too (a task that she has been practicing for quite a while now and which is enacted thrice every day with a student playing the Martian king and she herself!

"Listen to the blackboard!!"

(This happened way back when I was in primary school. 4th standard.)


“Listen to the blackboard!" my maths teacher would call out to the class.
When I couldn’t handle it anymore, I asked her- "But how are we supposed to ‘listen’ to the blackboard, ma’am? It doesn’t say anything!"

“Oh yes. It does dear! This blackboard, the chairs, the tables are all soaked with knowledge. They speak to you, pass on the knowledge, only you should be interested enough to pay attention to them.”
“You have heard the birds chirping? Right?” she asked.

“Yes ma’am” I replied. Still perplexed.

“So, do you think that’s just a racket or does that chirping make any sense to you?” She questioned.

“Ummm… it seems they are singing, ma’am.” I replied hesitantly.

“Well, exactly the same way the sound of chalk on blackboard is also music to the ears, knowledge to the mind. Whenever a teacher writes something on the blackboard, pay attention. Listen with all your might. It seems to sing. Each and every word and syllable and even numeral has its own melody. They sing, they all sing!"
Once you’ve learnt to distinguish the melodies, let them seep into your head and heart and soul and won’t have to mug up another answer, never!

Since then, I’ve made it a point to ‘listen’ to the blackboard.

The teachers write, the letters sing and I listen…