Poem indeed !!! is it fair ??

What’s life like for a royal child?
Servants attending, all wishes come true!
The child comes to this world with a silver spoon,
Life is beautiful with complaints hardly few!

Go down the ladder to a normal lad,
The child leads an existence, ordinary yet joyful!
The extravagance is spared for all we know,
And the unfulfilled wishes may be plentiful.

But ever imagined life of a poor little child?
Living with the most minimum of resources.
There are hardly any wishes that might come true!
Lonely and alone, he fights life’s cruel and wretched forces!

The child himself earns the meagre meal he eats,
Sweating out every ounce of his ability!
Yet the child is discarded and shown the door,
And labelled openly a cheap liability!

What may I ask is the fault of that unlucky child?
Who works to survive each and every day!
Abused, exploited and cheaply treated,
when children like us live life the easy way!

What would the child grow up to be?
A misfit in society fighting social regressions!
What values would he be able to give his kids?
While hiding in the past of his own reflections!

So is it fair, the ordeal the child is inevitably putting himself through?
Is it fair that he’s made to face situations?
The treatment given is clearly unjustified,
The child clearly needs awareness and affection!

Does this child really have to suffer this way?
In the state of this disgraceful strife ?
We can help that child and we have to,
The child deserves another chance, to affection, to education, to a far better life...

My school

I looked up at the board by which we used to swear : St. Ann’s High School – it read, it was now rusty and old but nevertheless it looked fine, I just silently stood there,
I realized I had completely forgotten how it looked and what it really meant as I walked around the gate kicking the sand – My School shined there brightly under the Sun’s glare.

Walking to the class saying “Good morning Teacher” to everyone who now were just a faded memory, we learnt to read and write, we learnt what a book was, we learnt to receive and give,
Amidst the broken buttons, amidst the untied shoe-laces, amidst the cute friends we had crushes on and amidst the half-full water bottles, we had learnt to live.

Learning swear words and using them in code while laughing at others’ foolishness felt amazing then, creating friend-groups and leaving a legacy; I realized we had made a mark,
Reciting movie dialogs that we had so proudly portrayed and heard was wonderful, the sounds we imitated included a teacher’s scolding or even the call of a dog’s bark.

Scolding a fellow mate for breaking my scale and then hugging him was heart-touching, teasing someone was good; saying “SORRY SORRY” when she felt bad was even better,
Cool air flew as my heart went back to the moment I had first played WRESTLING in school, my mind took me back to the day I had forged my first leave letter.

Telling friends to help us with our crushes and jumping out of joy when they smiled at us felt blissful; we were foolish enough to be happy thinking it was love,
Now I realized would we ever have known what we would have become – it didn’t matter then, all that we cared was the next cartoon episode or the number of pens in a pen-fight away we had to shove.

Showing everyone at home that we received a GOOD in our book was equal to an award, running around the house smiling whenever we received a star,
Throwing paper-rockets at people and then hiding while giggling non-stop, all those benches we scribbled our names on; everything was just a memory; everything we had left and walked afar.

The endless hours of great-thinkers’-discussions we had about Pokemon, the awesome Harry Potter duels we had with our own broken tree-branches and our very own Superhero Dream,
A silent tear slid down my cheek as I remembered the joy and the pride we had when we walked around the school wearing the uniform of the Scouts’-team.

Writing essays about our favorite festivals and building up letters to book-houses to complain was something we were never perfect at, yet at the tries I can’t help but smile,
Raising our hand proudly when we knew the answer to a question was Divine; when the teacher nodded in accordance, our hearts in happiness danced in style.

Sitting there, looking at that long-forgotten clock waiting for the bell to ring as teachers told us about Akbar and taught us how to add one with two,
We never realize what we have until we completely lose it and we never cry a river until we don’t know how to laugh completely – I now knew, it is all true.

I now looked at the time : I had to leave, just like everyone else who ever came, I turned around and began moving away -still dodging, out of habit, that small empty snake-hole,

As I slowly walked back into the wheels of time in the cycle of Life, I realized : Somewhere along those walls I left a part of my heart, somewhere among those School corridors still ran, my lost soul.