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.