Good to see you again. After I wrote 'Lobotomy' (see previous post: 'Am I a poet?'), I really liked it to the extent that I decided to write a few more poems. As you will soon find out, all of the following poems are based on classroom-related incidents. I tried to rhyme in some of these poems which, according to my opinion, demeaned the 'raw quality' of my thoughts. Anyway, here goes nothing:
Corporal Punishment
Struggling to get away
Wriggling out of trouble's way
Hatred over fear and anger is winning
Tormentors are icily grinning
Screaming as loud as silence can be
When, oh when, will we be free?
Brownie Points
Counterfieted smiles on the front row
Individuality takes a backseat now
No one cares if it's good or bad
Blind compliance makes it funny-sad.
Sleep Deprivation
Eyelids shutting comprehension down
Voids eating my cranial nerves
Bluebirds flying in numerous forms
Old Rip calling with outstretched hands.
Notes:
For the first and last time on my blog, let me be personal. I hated school-days; I wanted to get out of it as soon as possible. The only solace for me was with my English teacher - now he was a 'diamond in the rough' kind of person; these poems are about the others - the vicous kind. The cultural stereotyping in India (at least in Tiruvallur) meant that the teachers could do anything they wanted to and get away with it. Hence the reference to the 'Fear -> Anger -> Hatred' theory as to how a student feels by being subjected to such torturous brutes.
I do not mean that all students were treated this way; you need to be a 'bootlick' to be in their good looks. The respect was always demanded; never commanded (with the exception of my English Teacher). So, all you need to do is sit in the front row, do whatever they wanted you to, say 'Sir, yes Sir!' to all the say and voila! you are the best student. Hence my poem on brownie points.
So, what does a regular, self-respecting student do? Sleep. What if that too is denied? Sleep Deprivation. Rip van Winkle was always a role-model for me during those days.
That's enough poems for some time, I guess; back to my Philosophies, then.
Ta-ta,
Ravi Teja R.
