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Shwetha looks back at the student life and is filled with its aroma. A poem, exclusively for Different Truths.
The memoirs that drench me to the ocean of thoughts, The drawbacks that teach the lessons to note, The compromises, and the vows it seizes, The whole recipe invades me with the flavour to taste. The aroma of student life now I inhale. Few giggles hid inside the valve of the heart, The bitterness withering the sweetness inside And the eye that speaks more with its own nomenclature. The hands pointing others with anonymous silhouettes. The aroma of student life now I inhale. Backlog, the most horrible thing I used to chew, Now is a nutty article I write and kill. Teardrops hitting the most crucial page, And the shape it forms eliminates the letters. The aroma of student life now I inhale. Thin feelings of ours spilling to the close ones, And then getting locked by the solace with their scrutiny. Pair of words to boost in always, The happiest and touching things now I cherish. The aroma of student life now I inhale. Class bunking, the most said letters, Now calls me back to the bench where I seated Incomplete assignments and absent mind Ticking advice by the professors now rings in ears The aroma of student life now I inhale.
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