Oinam High School!

There came leaders in white suites,
They called netas.
There followed kids in pink sandals,
Smuggled from Moreh.
And we wide-eyes,
Observed the passing of the time, in silence!

Hello,
I wanted to count some days in my favour
But the silence annoyed me to the chagrin
'The silence is like sin',
I was taught thus!

Oh!
The school was 50 years old
And it has 50 walls for 50 seasons:
Few autumns, few summers, and
Lots of boycotts.
The patches of mud and straw,
And the naked black-boards;
They stand stubborn,
With stakes of low-waist jeans, and
The racket of cellphones…
The resistance of an institution, I guess!

Few blocks north,
Clouds of smoke blow;
In the classroom,
Rare gems taunt the alphabets
And it tarnishes the legends,
Dusts, noise, dreams, circles…