Nine years after leaving school,
Nostalgia has suddenly spooled,
A memory of how it lavishly stood,
In a wadi amidst a few green woods.
White-washed walls and red-brick stones,
Like a mantle in the centre adorned;
ISWK engraved above,
Unforgettable even 3,000 days after, somehow.
May be now a distant past,
With missing visions that failed to last,
Of forgotten mates and classroom tales,
And the grey-uniform, now gone pale.
Of weekly circulars undersigned Mr. L. Lobo, I remember,
And the morning prayers, mediation and anthem, still so hard to sever.
ISWK deeply ingrained in my mind till now,
Unforgettable even 3,000 days after, somehow.
Red, green, yellow and blue,
The houses, we all once belonged to,
For sports, debates and elocution,
And other annual events for some healthy competition.
The assemblies in the school hall,
In the balcony, where we had a ball,
ISWK, as the curtains draw to show,
Unforgettable even 3,000 days after, somehow.
Games we played a plenty,
Cricket, soccer and basketball for many,
And how we hated PE theory class,
The ground we loved without the grass.
And teachers we both adored and hated,
Today we miss them all, equally unabated,
ISWK, a proud Kabirian, I am, I know,
Because unforgettable you are, even 3,000 days after, somehow.
