School of Nostalgia

 

A white wooden door softly opens
In the hallways of my mind
Whispers of childhood laughter
Echoing down its corridors as it unwinds

To memories of our blackstoned school
Where we broke every known rule
One too many of those classroom things
Ignoring the call of the school bell rings

Where Algebra added up to a happy sum
Of mischief joys to fill an album
Like carving stories on the bench
With a Geometry compass and the stench
Of wet socks from a day of constant rain
Having waded through flooded Bandra lanes

Biology meant hearing Mr. Choubey's woes
On the science of 'Yecks' & 'Why' cells
While we drew happy faces on microbes
Turning our textbooks to Doodle Hell

Chemistry under the eyes of Mr Singh
Took us to a journey through the Lab of Terror
As Singh sang the music of Compounds
While we gagged in the mists of burning Sulphur

French was our only happy distraction
Listening to Miss Fleur's accent, an attraction,
When Parlez Vous Francais and conjugation
Made way to broken-hearted infatuation

The canteen was where we went again and again,
Our escape to zebra toffees and candy cane
Red 'Phantom' mock cigarettes and lollypop lime,
A sweet box of memories of another time.

I pass by my school, now once in every year
Walking into classrooms now silent to the ear
Staring in silence at those walls of learning
For memories that my heart still lies yearning.