Activities (41) Books (13) College (20) Happenings (80) Life (64) Micropoem (8) Musing (62) Netgames (6) Other Blogs (16) Personal (64) Poems (137) Pujo (7) Random Banter (32) School (28) SPICE club (14) The Famous/Infamous (9) The Statesman Voices (3) This Blog (35) Troubles (49) TV (8) Twitter (2) Vibes (4) Views (36) Wallpapers (36) Webcomics (4)

Turn It Up.

Saturday, February 21, 2015

Farewell Jottings -- Part Five (The End)

Today Hem Sheela Model School bade farewell to the Class XII batch of 2015. With Head Boy Nihal Singh, I, as the Head Girl, had to deliver a speech at the event. The speech was about leaving HSMS and being grateful and the like; but if I had to deliver a speech where I could say anything, the following would probably be it.
The End

The lost designs of my youth,
The fairy stories electric blue,
The proud crusades to find the truth,
The dreams of lives built anew --
Insane dreams of evermore!
Dreams of luxuries and love,
Dreams, that for every chore,
Divine Grace awaits above.
Something awaits, we still believe;
What it is, we know not still,
But someday it will come for me..
Or perhaps it never will.

There she goes, that girl who wrote
Joyous songs for feasting nuns,
Who woke at six to rush to school,
And cared after the little ones.
Went she away to new green fields --
New children, new dreams and hopes:
On her way to the world beyond,
Stopped she awhile to learn the ropes,
But not for long -- two years, they fly,
Up and out, hair streams behind,
Run, run, girl, for time is nigh:
Visions of expectant mankind --
Imagine them! With bated breath,
Waiting and watching for something new --
Something great, something fresh,
Something rare, in a million, few...!

Legend says that demons live
In human form, with us they walk;
With sweet voices, Grandma said,
Demons, in our ears, they talk.
Songs they sing, said the book
That steal innocent souls away --
Uncle Tiger said, if it's true,
Your mission is to find and slay
The demons that in humans live --
If you don't, who else will?
And so I learnt of my place --
The empty space for me to fill.

So hearken all my Farewell Song,
For today I sing sincere.
Today I bring a message true
To all my people gathered here:
You were born to fill a need,
Because no one else would do;
You were born because the world
Was waiting, eagerly, for you.
Don't let the world tell you now
That it's done and there's no more --
Tell the world, and tell yourself
Of all the promises made before,
Of proud crusades to find the truth,
And dreams of lives built anew,
Of grace, and love, and glories great--
A dream designed just for you.
We returned the badges at the end of the event, by the way. Officially done with the Council, now to trust next year's Council to keep up the (hopefully!) good work.

Sunday, February 8, 2015

Farewell Jottings -- Part Four (Journey To The Promised Land)

Of the games we play: be it exam games, ball games, or life itself.
Journey To The Promised Land

Never knew the word no, never learnt to say it.
One body, one mind, tugged and pushed every which way,
Battling shame and pride
To make it through the night
To the promised land, far away, far beyond the moon:
The promised land, we're promised, we're getting there soon!
So lock your feet in, Sheamus;
And steel your nerves, Daveed;
Don your mail, Henrietta mine;
Mirriam, rouse your steeds.

Gather your wits, my comrades, say prayers if you will,
Call upon your guardian angels -- this would be the hour,
'Cause we're trading all our coal
For worthless lumps of gold
To pay our way to the promised land, beyond the lands unclaimed;
The promised land, to us promised (yes, it's aptly named).
So Rover, Rocky, Rivierra,
Kraus, Nick, Leyland Brown:
Draw your scythes -- our paths ahead
Lie thickly overgrown.

Promises have the fastest legs of all the kin of Hope;
They have eyes behind their heads to know when we're getting close;
They can smell the grime and wet
Of our blood, tears and sweat;
They can hear our stumbling hearts dripping life with every beat;
And they feel our cornered minds, still in denial of defeat.
So Constance, Edward, Henry B.,
Ring out our battle cry;
Let them hear, loud and clear:
We chase them, or we die.
Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...