Excuse me, My teenager class mates

Excuse me, My teenager class mates

P K Routray

To day

two of my classmates birth day,

wishing them best, we pray,

hale, hearty, one hundred years they to stay.

The span of time gives me a nervous feeling

how quickly the time is fleeting,

just yesterday as teen ager

met we in Rengcol corridor.

Alien to ech other for an hour or so

had we our hug and fight show.

For five years staying together

sharing, caring, fighting bitter.

Know we each other, much closer

envy our consorts when now we talk over.

Rakesh Tickoo’s relation with Rajkumar,

to saroj, Sharmila’s no response but Anju’s reply letter,

Prabhat’s cycling for seven days,

VG’s marathon walks on hilly ways

mid day visit to Leela and Rajaqu

with motivational factor not unique,

running awat from class for premier show

not to repeat again as a hundredth time vow,

some continued to visit Jharsugda and Calcutta

being devotees of Mala, Vaijayanti, Sharmila, Sadhana, Waheeda and new Mamata,

seem to be incidents of just yester day

but fifty years with night and day have passed by.

Topoing the drawing from Padia, Bhagirathi also from innocent many

many defaulting friends did not find worries any.

The record breaking visit of Madam Priti to second hostel,

the live scenes of our vendetta in Uditnagar hotel

with each individual’s child hood real and fancied queen

flash back in memory lane on its cherished multidimensional screen.

Gossips ranging from Dhenkanal to Delhi capital

from Margaret Smitth, Rita Ferria, Carolina to Venketraghavan’s erroneous dismal,

Cheers to Tarit, lala, Manu, Rabi, Sidhu, Hiralal,

Senapati with memory of Subas, Brhma Biswambar in drama rehearsal.

innovative application of intellect, art, craft and tact

generated many creations special and unique, kept hidden with their authors only in our heart.

Our revered proff Behera, proff Panda, proff Mishra, Proff Rangaswamy and proff Nagabhusania are no more

them with other professors, and then upcoming brilliant lecturers, we remember and  adore.

Ragging we were afraid and many stayed away from it

those who suffered, the fun of it, they loudly admit.

As senior we had our own innovation of fun with fresher,

The incident of late night ragging and getting caught I still I wonder.

The back post, the check post, Bharat Badam, bhanga kulfi, Leela cinema’s prawn chops

with reverberation experiment of sound on obscene node in me all the incidents crop.

Friends some went for their battle in life to foreign land

scattered we rest were  in many assignments over length and breadth of our country by destiny’s hand.

Forced were we in our professions and family for long forty five years

now except a few many of us playing with their grand children with fun and cheers.

Left many friends their mortal bodies prematurely for their heavenly abode

but to us they are very much here with their fun, from our heart them nothing can erode.

In a late night frenzy this heyday friend remember you all with your myriad color

hoping Lala Mahendra to call all of us for a get together over the same Rengcolian annual dinner.

Country chicken, Gazar Halwa, Rabiddi, fish heads and double omelet

of those hostel days, this diseased stomach with awakened urge still covet.

 

N . B (Pardon me for length and contents.

29^th September is the birth day of my two class mates for five years, 1965 to1970 Lalatendu and Mahendra. This poem though personal to the group (with some alien incidents and names to readers) is posted just as a fun and an expression of our longings for those teen age days. I beg apology from my reader friends.)