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 FOREVER SPECIAL CHILD

A plump little boy on my lap,

Rejoicing and giggling before the nap,

Had a mystic charm on his face,

The twinkling eyes added to the grace.

My Uncle came one fine day,

Glanced at him in an enigmatic way,

Turn by turn he praised and gazed,

I still wondered why he was amazed!

With a little hesitation, he revealed his fear,

‘The mystic charm that was so clear,

Was actually so gross and out of line’,

In a gruff tone,

I asked, ‘Was Uncle really fine?’

My heart was aching,

Something inside was breaking,

Oh! What an agony of mind,

The peace of mind, where shall I find!

I visited the experts with my mate,

Reconciled and took it as a fate,

Uncle’s qualm, they too did not negate,

‘Shower compassion on him and never hate’.

‘The milestones are delayed’, we were told,

 The head was heavy and did not hold,

The face twitched but we still had hope,

The elderly kin assured that we shall cope.

It had to work with the love and strong will,

But not without the sweet magical pill,

And the company of a playful sibling,

Said the wise men, when she would cling.

Now I also had little girl on my lap,

Double the giggles before the nap,

Multiplied the charm on his face,

Improving persistently by the God’s grace.

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   ORDEAL OF A CLASS

She wanted to dance at the age of thirteen,

The class and the teacher she had never seen,

The inhibitions she could not overcome,

For sure, it was going to be irksome.

She managed to win over her mother with pain,

But her granny was firm and against the grain,

The lineage didn’t permit,

She mocked at the absurdity of it.

She argued and put her foot down,

And made her rigid Granny frown,

Daddy was on the fence and calm,

But for the mother it was an alarm.

Hereafter Granny settled on sole condition,

‘Abstain from theatre execution,’

She had a win-win situation,

‘What a wild and unruly generation!’

She assured and got started with a word of honor,

Fearing the eyes of the tutor, she danced in a corner,

For the art, she was sweaty, fidgety and shy,

‘You are not following me, tell me why?’

After repeated acts and exertion,

With all her heart and sincere intention,

The impatient tutor glared and rebuked her,

Smacked and banged on the spur.

Offended and ashamed she cursed Miss Tutor,

The spirits shattered by the so called motivator,

With the woes and the tremor,

 Tacitly she left the hall forever.

          REMEMBERING MY CLASS OF 126

My first session in NDA and they called it spring term,

The magnificent Sudan was inspiring and stood firm,

And the rules and regulations were really stringent,

Achieving greater attention of the class was my intent.

The cadets jogged, marched and rolled to the lecture hall,

Amazed I was to see them upside down on every senior’s call.

With a roster clutched in my hand, I entered a class of 126,

Some of them dozed

While I called out the names but I knew how to fix.

Everyone was unique in their own way,

Reddy was an alert whiz, needless to say,

How prompt were Shivhare and Purohit,

While Tanuj and Toshan were reticent quite a bit.

The day I taught The Mending Wall,

Fazeel and Ajay would raise their hand and call,

To clarify their doubts sincerely once again,

With such a heedful class, taking lecture was never a pain.

Daniel, with a pleasing smile, was a muted learner, 

While Avinash’s dedication and creativity was a head turner;

Contrary to his name, Kranthi was calm and engrossed,

When I turned to see Goyat chuckled and tossed.

From first to the last chair,

Cadets like Bhuvan, honest and fair,

Had a desire to invest on wisdom,

One of them was also

 Ankit, the unheard waited for his chance to come.

Everyone was certainly a gem but only mentioned a few,

One by one the terms got over, as the time flew;

The days went by and it’s time to bid farewell,

May the Almighty bless them wherever they dwell.