Thursday, April 22, 2010

Apni toh Pathshaala .. masti ki Pathshaala...

Yes so ‘Pathshaala’ has failed miserably at the box office. It has a descent sound track with Lucky Ali making a powerful comeback with ‘Bekarar’ fitted at the most inappropriate place -when the audience is just waiting to run out of the movie halls. It was almost like that Indian Idol series 1 audition, where participants ran over each other as the gates opened to test their vocal chords, only this time they ran out screaming after watching hours of mindless clatter. For the geeks, like ‘Java’ which spawns many threads for parallel and faster processing; the movie burst out with compounded stories. But looks like the non-techie zero-storyline director forgot to put a thread.stop() leaving many of those threads dangling forever.

But yes, the movie does transcend you on and off to those wonder years, the time of heavier bags but lighter minds, lots of friends and no egos, where teachers probably taught from heart more than book, where going home without a peeled knee or a scratched elbow was a waste of day and many such caressing moments.

The bivouac of school life may have ended but memories linger on forever. OK so the rhyme scheme may have gone for a toss but what the hell.. Cheers to those fun filled days!!

The morning sun rays which used to wake me up,

For the bag to be packed right and to neatly dress up,

To toss and sway the water bottle on the way,

As the school gates opened to a brighter day.

Where we sang the morning prayers in perfect sync

The tune of which still echoes sometime,

The colors we splashed and the stains of the ink

That life was so much in a perfect rhyme.

The spat of the wooden ruler that instilled a fear

There stood our teachers firm but kind,

On a cold day today, I still feel their warmth and care

As I move forward with their faith behind.

The wooden bench on which we carved our names,

Recess fights, dance and song, the mud and the sand,

Peel an elbow, the passion for the games,

Marching in the sun to the school band.

The stories in class we carefully listened

Leapt over fences in the morning sun,

Mischief and fun, got caught and punished

Standing outside the class was a different fun.

With back to the wind we started to grow,

But before we knew, it was time to go,

A fresh course to discover and new paths to be found,

We made place for the new and took memories abound.

But sometimes I wish I could simply rewind

Wake up someday to that old regime…


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