26/08/2020
Dear School,
I have been waiting to tell you that
Every trick that you applied to work on a topper became a lie,
Rooted deep and grew itself in the bright corners of my mind,
Just like the rotten candy on the cotton bed with ants choking and microbes glistening with happy structures.
I felt as if my body was a book,
Marks guns and friends bullets.
The bullets would only pierce the walking library.
The library of pens and a lot of penstands,
Dirt on them and millions of stories to tell.
The road bizzare and confidence like a thin glass jar.
If brought in sun, it is no more a jar.
If kept in dark, it is already dead.
How many mountains are you going to shake?
How many lifes are you going to kill?
Dear school?
Dear School,
I wish I had come out of you soon,
Met my college friends earlier,
Learnt earlier that life is not a fu***ng lesson.
Life is something to be cherished,
Life is for passion. Life is for giving,
Sharing, and enjoying the playfulness of the journey,
The smell of the process.
You see - 'Life' as a word doesn't seem so heavy
Then why do you prepare us for the battles,
Make us libraries and our wellwishers guns???
, ,