Back To School

Their satchels (twenty five) within auto-rickshaw seats dumped, Same number (small and big; fat and lean; boys and girls) tight-clumped; Some hanging; some stamping; some hitting and kicking each one; The driver, gliding as though great battle won with pains none...! June, in Southern-India, has been reopening time; With south-west winds, monsoon sets in as a nursery rhyme; Fun on way is complete and perfect only when there be, Splashing water-mixed mud that looks like Kerala-milk-tea...! Some walk, books (for not getting wet), hidden within their shirts, They're poor government school-students; studying in outskirts; Looking at rich-kids, anger aroused, they scream, yell and haul, Each, yet, knows, at the very outset, fate is same for all...! Entering within campus, for all, is crucifixion, Soon begins, within their classrooms, teacher-student friction; Each tutor (teaching science or math) claims to be perfect, Kick-starting, with no intro, their vast wisdom they inject...! Games, occasional; lessons much; Little mental vent; Frustration of being within four walls, always ferment; Mugging-up starts; rutting, tests and exams turn punishments, Learning through experiments gives many embellishments...! Getting out of those jail-like cells, is glad and heavenly, Queries of the day, though, by parents, will start heavily; From opening till closing, all know, they'd be shuttled now, They're masters of mysteries, yet; will escape anyhow...! 29 August 2022 Back to School Poetry Contest Sponsored by: Francine Roberts