Jyothy Sreedhar

Death, as we term it...

Oh, my friend!
What’s death that scares you
and sets your heart’s mighty sun!

Is it not a sweet return
with the last ring of a hectic school day
to the home that you’d left with the dawn?

Is it not sweet to think that
you’ll be home once the light fades out?

May be you are brilliant with the classes
and I need some extra tutions.

May be you pass out a bit more early
and I try my next chances.

It’s just that our timings are different.
Let me learn here and reach you there…
Is it not what we term ‘death’?

Now, why not check your bag, for the lunch is there
and your favourite cartoony water bottle
filled with a heavenly drink.
Have it for your breaks.

Your nerves shall rise up and energise
the weakest cell in your built-up.

Why not say cheers to those around,
who are jealous of the things that you own!

Yeah, I know that you struggle now
with those lines on the blackboard
the subjects piercing your heads,
the lengthy hours that pull you to desk,
the philosophies hated, so undigestible,
the dirty schedules of examinations
appearing every alternate hour,
the answer papers that get released
in the other alternate-
All that keeps you tensed of an infamous failure.

How is the last hour of the day!

The hour that brings you visuals
of a home that awaits you,
of the room that has a lonely bed
and all the toys that you need,
the aroma of the best dishes for you,
the sleep in your mother’s lap
with no homeworks to do,
and the meet with your dears there.

Did you say that the wait is for the end of life?
Know’t, its the hectic schooltime that winds up.

The wait is just for your companions
to get done with their lessons
and return home where you stay.

Then we forget our day’s punishments
and indulge in the games for leisure.

You wait for me there with the bat and the ball,
and the plan for the games that we should play.

We shall run, we shall laugh and
we shall make the merriest hours

If not you get the bats, we shall play dumb cherades
and we shall have the stage for it,
though not of fools.