His One Twenty Minutes of Afternoon Class

The sun was blazing hot,

our faces covered with perspiration,

we gave one more attempt -

to evening class.

Do or die situation,

when you got tonnes of pending class,

So none of us could afford a loss,

after all, this is the only time we got,

to cover up the mess we unknowingly caused,

Only then we would be eligible,

to take our university exam.

Contrary to what one may think,

honestly, each one of us,

had accidentally got caught,

no one intends to lag behind,

or get slowed down,

And we all have a story behind.

Thanks heaven for our residents,

who patiently sit with us,

despite their days hectic work,

And run within and around the hospital wall,

briefing us on all that we hadn’t learned.

Hopefully we all be done,

when this year gets done.

I, being one, with pending load,

ran for life to mark one,

when clock struck quater past four,

And after the monitor had said “accepted”,

i sighed and picked a seat in the back row,

right under the white plastered roof with a breach line running on the verge of giving up any time soon,

and that slow rotating fan.

And there he walks in,

It wasn’t until he spoke,

when I gathered that someone was already in,

we huddled in front to learn something new,

And made an alphabetical ‘C’.

Boy! It was intense,

he so invested in his explanation,

i felt like a teenage fool,

In my defence he looked just like -

My old muse.

He so soft in his words like a cotton wool,

My cheeks red and i rendered speechless,

Eighty minutes flew,

i keep so much to myself,

that I hardly know who is ‘who’,

So when he left,

i had to know.

Gossshhh ! the saposexual in me,

was once again hooked.

Oh how I wish I was extraordinary,

Perhaps then I might have caught his eyes too.

So the only thing now I do,

is watch him explain everything new,

in his one twenty minutes of afternoon.

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