Rainbows and Greys at St. Johns unfold,
A daily canvas of tales untold.
Each medico soul here spins a story, bold and grand,
So let me share my hated and loved stories from this land.
In the eerie and tranquil Research Area’s lair, Peace blooms amidst exam-time despair.
Aesthetic haven for those who take selfies and snaps,
The dim lamps steals the show, shining perhaps.
With pretty stone floors that are uniquely charming and neat,
It’s a lover’s hideaway, and a gossiping retreat.
You’ll find folks strolling, post-dinner parade, But after eleven, security spoils the escapade.
When the serpents of our department’s strife,
Tangle us in their coils of torturous life,
We flee to the First Floor,
where peace we embrace,
And savour the goodness of coffee’s warm grace.
It’s mind quenching especially
For in those moments, our sanity’s at stake.
The Old mortuary, ironically not for the dead,
But for living Dead students with thoughts in their head.
A hub of post work chatter, where laughter prevails.
And Flipkart guy calls to finish his daily delivery sales.
Pakodas and samosas, our tummies do crave,
Their scents make us hungry, no one can behave.
A post 4:30 ritual, sitting on those rectangular slabs,
Make the place a nostalgic nook where memories ignite.
The College building greets us each morning with cheerful charm,
Unlike our lives ruined because of the damn alarm.
At dawn, that’s not our ideal scene,
We’d rather be anywhere else but college, if you know what I mean.
“Where’s your ID?” asks the guard, quite sternly.
We’re still half-asleep, and it’s too early, surely.
From going to class to pay attention
To going only for attendance,
we have come a long way you see.
Gazing at Jesus in the College Chapel, hoping for grace,
Before rushing off to class, for we’re always late.
And finally, after a hectic day,
My Hostel room is where I’d rather stay.
My bed’s my best friend; on it, I’d lay,
Napping away every remaining hour of the day.
My roomies are more than just friends, they are family
From breakups to patch ups to burnouts to happy tears,
We have seen it all within our four walls.
The infamous Cooking Maggi, while Aunty yells from next door,
And complains to Warden make us rebellious even more.
“Keep it down, what’s all this clatter?”
We laugh it off, enjoying the chatter.
Then off to slumber, our dreams to embrace,
Knowing tomorrow, it’s the same old race.
Well sometimes being on Campus is the best place you’d want to be,
But daily life struggles occasionally makes it a misery.
We’d all want to rush home if given a choice,
Yet a magnetic force attracts us back to the place with so much joy
This is the story of my Grey Rainbow
A mixed feeling as a Johnite, you know if you know!
- Author: Nephophile(e) (Pseudonym) ( Offline)
- Published: August 17th, 2024 12:08
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 9
Comments1
A most interesting use of colors to express the intent of the poem.
Thank you ✨
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