I miss my school days and ringing of the bell
For opening the lunch boxes,
And a new story which teacher had to tell
I miss the samosas and the canteen,
A heart so innocent and so clean
My school bus, my raincoat and the old slam book
The parathas in the tiffin which with all her love mom used to cook
The playground, the mud
And the football team’s stud
Bunking the class and study hard at last
The laughter, the jokes are all now past
Teasing friends and playing the pranks
And fight so hard to get the top ranks
Whether they were sunny or the rainy days
Tried to attend school in all the possible ways
Birthdays of friends and soft chocolate cake
Giving gifts to one another which we ourselves used to make
Precious than jewels were those friends of mine
Even little money to enjoy was enough and fine
What days were those and life so simple
Now there is no time but freedom and money is in ample…..
For opening the lunch boxes,
And a new story which teacher had to tell
I miss the samosas and the canteen,
A heart so innocent and so clean
My school bus, my raincoat and the old slam book
The parathas in the tiffin which with all her love mom used to cook
The playground, the mud
And the football team’s stud
Bunking the class and study hard at last
The laughter, the jokes are all now past
Teasing friends and playing the pranks
And fight so hard to get the top ranks
Whether they were sunny or the rainy days
Tried to attend school in all the possible ways
Birthdays of friends and soft chocolate cake
Giving gifts to one another which we ourselves used to make
Precious than jewels were those friends of mine
Even little money to enjoy was enough and fine
What days were those and life so simple
Now there is no time but freedom and money is in ample…..
2 comments:
Nicely put. One's childhood in retrospect seems so blissful. Ignorance indeed is bliss. Especially considering the numbing life you go through now that you've grown up. The choices you need to make, the quest for happiness ( something which most of us got without any effort in our childhood ), the anxiety, I could go on about what ails us when we grow up.
Nostalgia,then, is the best refuge in these troubled times!
reminds me of that Jagjit Singh gazal.. Kagaz ki kasti
well written :)
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