The High School Dictator

This poem is written for a guest post on Jamie Adams's website  https://jamieadstories.blog/  

I wish to extend my heartfelt thanks to Jamie Adams for this opportunity. This is my first guest post ever. Corporal punishments are now banned. This poem is about incidents that happened more than 24 years ago. 

I saw a dream 

I was back in my high school 

Again to learn some discipline 

There were total strangers 

But a man stood out 

He was the dreaded frog-eyed man 

The principal and headmaster 

He had difficult eyesight, 

But he had a good hearing capability

He had strict rules for the school 

The school was silent like a library mostly

Smacking with a stick was legal in 

his era, If you're late, you get 

smacked, We had  fearful days in 

school, Teachers looked for a reason

to expel us from the class, To be 

caught by him during his long walk   

 twice a day, Looking for preys to take to 

the office room, To give warning and smacking 

Students tried to do homework at all costs, 

We tried not to make any nuisance,

Even during class with no tutoring due to fear, 

It's more fearful if he asks to bring our parents, 

He would talk about the performance of 

ward at school, And our parents give him the right

to discipline their wards, He would mercilessly

fail students who he doesn't have faith, In  keeping

the hundred percentage record of the school, 

in the state level exams in the tenth standard, 

Those who survive the cull had extra classes,

And he used to monitor our progress closely, 

We had to get a signature from a parent, 

That we did all the tasks on the checklist daily, 

Without that teacher would make us stand, 

We would hide on the sides of the window,

As he has difficulty seeing around, 

One day he caught me standing during the 

lunch break, I was asked to perform 100 squats 

publicly, With my hands on my ears, The school's 

good reputation was built by him, More than fear,

The urge to get good marks drives students to study

hard, The pride in being part of the glory of the school

help us too, It's funny to think now, he taught us not to

waste food, He used to check our lunch boxes after eating,

He taught us to wear dhoti, By making it a uniform on Fridays,

He was in front to feast us on a special day, The one rupee coin

he gave on Vishu is still special, The school assemblies and his 

address, Remain a distant memory!

I saw my high school principal again in my dream last night. So I felt he is an appropriate topic to write on. I was scared of him and his punishments. He had an aura about him. Image from Adobe Stock. 

Llama

A guy in Dubai drank

Too much liquid of midnight

Celebrating his success in the desert

He wanted to raise a camel as his pet

He  searched for it in online pet stores

He liked the smile of one and bought it

He forgot about it until he got a call

From a delivery company, to receive

The animal he bought from Bolivia

He had no memory, that too from 

Bolivia, He checked his internet history,       

To find the day he shopped online,            

He saw the confirmatory email for                

the shopping, He was amused when             

he saw the llama, Not a camel, it had a            

head like a goat, It was a small animal              

full of fur, it had an infectious smile, 

He found out that it was from the Andes

mountains, He still liked its smile, But 

he wondered how to raise it in the desert! 

He set up a cooler enclave on his farm, 

And he placed an order for a couple more, 

For giving company to his llama!

A poem based on word prompts from #atreyasverse #2WordPrompt Image from Unsplash 

Larkspur Wish'

When the velvet dusk haunts moon,            

I will be waiting for you with            

Larkspur flowers

I want to put them on your pink hair,          

To make you gleam at night with              

shy smile 

I will end my woeful wanderings,

for listening to the soulful music that            

you play

And you will see me dancing wildly to the

music of you, and lose in potion of             

your love

The purpose of my life is to build a new life,

 with you in an estuary of                  

your dreams

 A poem based on word prompts from #atreyasverse #BraveWrite #moonmystic #VIVpoem #vss365 #WIPWordSearch Image from Google 

Temple For You

I want to look for a mount

Like Olympus in the Asgard

Not the haven of the gods

But a kingdom of the demons

To build a big temple for you

In the valley with thick forest

And rocks for an ideal pilgrimage

Columns like in Greek temples

Arches like in the Persepolis

Structure like a mini colosseum

Atop, a pyramid like in Egypt

Minarets around like in Arabia

Flooring with the Italian marbles

Sanctum sanctorum carved in a

Single granite from the Karnataka

I’ll keep a sculptures of your demons

I’ll worship it with my poetic verses

Sprinkling heavenly scents of attar

And bunch of Jasmines that you like

I'll lit the temple with camphor lights

In the midnight I will pour blood on

Deities to quench its insatiable thirst

I’ll offer gifts from the occult priests

Fulfil their wishes with your demonic

Powers that you used to destroy me !

Your greed and arrogance will be the

 Offering for the ooccultist pilgrims

Who have cruel wishes to fulfil at the

Expense of miseries  of their rivals!

 

A poem based on #reevesroses word prompt . Image from MasterFile

An Old Fisherwoman

 A lanky old woman 

With a holy cross attached to her chain

Carried a big Aluminum pot

Full of fish on her head 

She travelled by buses to faraway 

Places from her shore to sell fish 

She walked kilometres every day 

Be it summer, winter or monsoon 

She had a set of houses to give fish 

Yet she would hide some for us 

If she gets special fish on occasions

She would keep the fish at our home and go

Without waiting for payment 

She would say, give it later 

She always gave fish at a fairer price

Her relative used to work with my father

She always had an attachment to our family

She brought us fish for more than a decade

We don't get the fish like she used to bring, now

She shared tales from her life and shore 

How the landscape changed with foreign money

And how the sea tides have changed their lives

She had no kids and her husband was no more

She lived with her sister's kid 

She sold fish until her health deteriorated

She never liked sitting idle at home 

She prayed for us in her church 

Her belief is still strong 

She made wishes for me 

When I had a struggling phase

She used to bring a cake 

and sweet red wine 

During every Christmas 

That's something we miss now

She is into her nineties now

Still talks to Mum once in a while 

A Kerala saree is  waiting to be gifted to her

She is like a relative without blood relation

Some relations are deeper than blood relations 

Women like her are inspiring, who battle life 

On their own, even in their old age 

We still talk about her when we buy special fish

Image from DreamsTime