top of page
  • hashtagkalakar


By U. Fathima Farzana

An old rusty fan creaks

In the centre of a dust-filled classroom.

The teacher glares like Poe’s Raven;

The students are walled up like his black cat.

Onward goes the teacher’s recitation

(Memorized, of course, from the internet)

Pens scratch out their lives on paper

Wasting ink and someone’s original soul –

The students memorize.

Theirs is a memory of a memory,

Twice removed from originality.

If a genius emerges, he is shot at

With the bullets of internal tests, tests, tests…

Brains get rusty like the old fan

And the heat-smoked classroom.

Lunch from tiny steel boxes

To keep their weak stomachs a-going,

Teenage boys sneak out for a puff

And girls gossip about boys,

Teacher catches them – suspension, T.C.

Girls faint, boys rage and parents weep.

Then comes the green eyed monster – Examination!

And its child – Results

(Like Grendel and his mother)

Do we have a Beowulf to slay them?

No, the heroes have already killed themselves.

No place for fancy or imagination;

Marks are their final destination

Those tiny black figures on white sheets determine lives

And people kill themselves and each other

For nothing better than black ink on white paper.

By U. Fathima Farzana

1 view0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

By Amol Anil Patil At a pleasant, calm, cold morning, I wake up prior to set alarm I'm waiting for my Father's a hunky-dory friend to come But more then, I was waiting for the girl which is coming wit

By Amol Anil Patil At hours of daylight, A cat sits in the van of my dwelling Her voice “meow…meow…” seems to be greedy, And by listening, my heart became panicky I didn’t have milk in my domicile so

By Aditya S Krishna Remember this? the slant of light shining on your face, gleaming of your beauty. remember this. the gust of breeze grazing past your open hair, enveloping my fingers with silky con

bottom of page