As the ball went from hand to hand,
My memories drifted from year to year.
Back to the hot humid hostel days,
Of the muddy field of the women’s campus,
Where slippers substituted sports shoes
And our neatly plaited hair shone brighter than the sun.
The aroma of dosa excited each soul
But the same of raddish cury made us cringe.
The ball nearly hitting me,
A call to reality,
My students apologizing for their crooked visuality,
Takes me back to when I was them.
Green house t-shirt and a wire hairband,
Shorts longer than our skirts
Just like “Monday is longer than sunday”.
Janspot bags and power keds on vogue
“Bholas allu is so piro” said लोग.
The ringing of bell
Rings another one in my mind,
How many more memories to look back to,
Shifting backwards…and beyond?
priyankapradhansite 