Last Bench

I may have left the school days behind,
but the classroom never really  left me.
It’s still the same old routine of coming early,
to fill the last benches first.

Gone are the days of uniforms and lunchboxes,
gone are the days of “kneel-down”-ing.
The professor doesn’t give a damn and neither do we,
we just worry that he doesn’t disturb our sleep.


But then, the last bench has its own way,
of forcing you to sit and think.
And While the breeze hits me from the left and from behind,
I stare out of the window and get lost in my thoughts.

I’m pushed back in time, pushed far away,
away from the college classrooms and life.
The professor gets switched off just like a radio,
& all the last bench jokes become buzzing of bees.

I remember old jokes, I remember old pranks,
I remember all the times we laughed and cried.
I remember all the punishments we ever got in class,
I remember each and every smile.

My brain starts playing old videos,
kiddish fights and childish talks.
I remember all promises, all secrets we shared,
all that we thought was the ‘world’ for us.

Games class and football fights,
cat-fights and the gossip vine.
All that philosophical thinking and search for “love”,
nothing but leave a wavering smile.

‘Sharing’ lunches and diet-food!
Borrowing water bottles during a class.
Sticking chewing gum under the desks,
and writing our names over the walls.


The bell rings and my day dream breaks,
I want to stay but I can’t.
Lifting up my bag, I give the bench a look,
and a smiling me exits the class.


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