Short poem by apsdehal.

September 21, 2012

As I sit on the first bench of the class,
Thinking of the Senate and its grass.

Those were the days great,
I used to sit on last bench with eyes under the sleep’s weight.

All the girls were visible,
and the friends approachable.

Cursed by this lecturer, I have been made to sit here,
from where I can see till nowhere.

On the other side, going on is the myth of electronics,
To understand this, I need tonics.

Time is passing away slowly away,
Too slow, a single minute has become a day.

Remembering the days two years back,
We were roaming in the hell like jack.

Now we are here in this great institute,
Always copying the tute.

Whether its lecture, tute or practical,
Our body is only present here, not our mind.

On the board, are going out and in the numerical
And we are saying “What the hell?”

See through, look forward and understand the feelings of Roll No. 92
His career and future in danger as he comes in the eyes of ‘Majnu’.

Save us, hear our ache,
We are the IITians attending the lectures empty stomache.

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