The days of self definition,
Those days of freedom.
Living each day of our lives,
With the few, restricted choices at our discretion.
The days of casual conversations,
Intermittent, with spurts of laughter.
Those days of flirtatious admiration.
Novelty, was in all we did.
First-timer adrenaline rushes.
Gasping in horror over breath analyzers,
Post trouble-making and it's ramifications.
In love with multiple people, simultaneously,
Pouring out sighs of adulation.
Only if we could put together someone, that satiated our fascination.
The stolen askew glance to the one we desire, to call sweetheart,
Exchanging polite conversation with their best cohort.
Coffee-dates translating into endless gossip sessions,
Extrapolating multifarious possibilities one dreamed of.
Short-skirts and pleat-less trousers.
Hair styled to perfection.
A let loose, tie.
An air of confidence.
An expression, of the wannabe millionaire.
Cans of coke,
Jargon about the dame and ol’ bloke.
Slangs of generation next,
Rolling of r’s,
Struggling between British and American accents.
Alas! Contemporary hip-hop lip sync, an aspiration.
The coolest gig-
Traditional waltzing in dim lighting with a demure babe.
Driving to hangout joints with blaring tape.
Rally cars, with metallic fenders and modification.
Swatch to flaunt and mobile rescue operations.
Going dutch on fine-dining,
To afford the delectable chocolate cake.
Setting valentine’s as target to get oneself a date.
Movie romances that transported one to dream locations.
Last minute assignments!
What’s with the examinations?
Burning of the midnight candle to get a first glimpse at the syllabus in question.
Scanning the question paper for the eureka moment,
In hope to see something that trigger's our imagination,
Clenching the pen between our teeth,
With our fingers in circular motion,
In deep thought of falling grades,
Anxiety of passing and the commotion within.
Convinced we’d have cracked the paper,
Given just another day of preparation.
So tutorials will be it, parents forceful assertion.
The passport to your future millions, their declaration.
Yeah right! Like group studies were helpful!
So will be yet another commercialized educational institution.
With the best of wardrobe on display,
The best bet to break away from the school uniform, oh so mundane.
To flaunt the recent purchase of imported fragrances,
Wear streaked, treated-hair in any form,
To fall in place or apart, trained to conform.
Torn-denims, anti-fits, low-waists called the shots in the fashion hour
Tees that showcased the arduous work done.
Brief, flashes of brand endorsements, where one hadn't gone.
Basketball in hand, heading for a smoke on the court.
Equipped with all the accouterments, to be on the ground.
Football was incidental, cared for the crowd.
The high fives on meeting,
Hugs echoing fraternity,
Friends ganging-up for the sneak peek of F-TV,
To ogle at the damsels walk the ramp in bikinis.
Discussion about the hottie round the bend,
A new entrant to the colony.
Geeks don’t go far was the mantra,
Have fun, the war-cry
Years from the day of school farewell,
Half a dozen batches or more apart from that day of graduation.
The thread that ties,
The days of self definition,
Those days of freedom,
Is living our life to the fullest,
With the few, restricted choices, at our discretion
Those days of freedom.
Living each day of our lives,
With the few, restricted choices at our discretion.
The days of casual conversations,
Intermittent, with spurts of laughter.
Those days of flirtatious admiration.
Novelty, was in all we did.
First-timer adrenaline rushes.
Gasping in horror over breath analyzers,
Post trouble-making and it's ramifications.
In love with multiple people, simultaneously,
Pouring out sighs of adulation.
Only if we could put together someone, that satiated our fascination.
The stolen askew glance to the one we desire, to call sweetheart,
Exchanging polite conversation with their best cohort.
Coffee-dates translating into endless gossip sessions,
Extrapolating multifarious possibilities one dreamed of.
Short-skirts and pleat-less trousers.
Hair styled to perfection.
A let loose, tie.
An air of confidence.
An expression, of the wannabe millionaire.
Cans of coke,
Jargon about the dame and ol’ bloke.
Slangs of generation next,
Rolling of r’s,
Struggling between British and American accents.
Alas! Contemporary hip-hop lip sync, an aspiration.
The coolest gig-
Traditional waltzing in dim lighting with a demure babe.
Driving to hangout joints with blaring tape.
Rally cars, with metallic fenders and modification.
Swatch to flaunt and mobile rescue operations.
Going dutch on fine-dining,
To afford the delectable chocolate cake.
Setting valentine’s as target to get oneself a date.
Movie romances that transported one to dream locations.
Last minute assignments!
What’s with the examinations?
Burning of the midnight candle to get a first glimpse at the syllabus in question.
Scanning the question paper for the eureka moment,
In hope to see something that trigger's our imagination,
Clenching the pen between our teeth,
With our fingers in circular motion,
In deep thought of falling grades,
Anxiety of passing and the commotion within.
Convinced we’d have cracked the paper,
Given just another day of preparation.
So tutorials will be it, parents forceful assertion.
The passport to your future millions, their declaration.
Yeah right! Like group studies were helpful!
So will be yet another commercialized educational institution.
With the best of wardrobe on display,
The best bet to break away from the school uniform, oh so mundane.
To flaunt the recent purchase of imported fragrances,
Wear streaked, treated-hair in any form,
To fall in place or apart, trained to conform.
Torn-denims, anti-fits, low-waists called the shots in the fashion hour
Tees that showcased the arduous work done.
Brief, flashes of brand endorsements, where one hadn't gone.
Basketball in hand, heading for a smoke on the court.
Equipped with all the accouterments, to be on the ground.
Football was incidental, cared for the crowd.
The high fives on meeting,
Hugs echoing fraternity,
Friends ganging-up for the sneak peek of F-TV,
To ogle at the damsels walk the ramp in bikinis.
Discussion about the hottie round the bend,
A new entrant to the colony.
Geeks don’t go far was the mantra,
Have fun, the war-cry
Years from the day of school farewell,
Half a dozen batches or more apart from that day of graduation.
The thread that ties,
The days of self definition,
Those days of freedom,
Is living our life to the fullest,
With the few, restricted choices, at our discretion
