I still remember the laughter and shouting in the morning.
The tugging and pushing of the queues, and the prefect’s last warning.
Suddenly a hand pulling my ear,
“Learn your manners or you will stand out in the open air.”


I still remember my class teacher,

wearing a white suit that day,

Who knew that the death calling was on the way.
Everything was so perfect and enchanting,
Friends, teachers and siblings were along the way.


I still remember how that horrid sound shook me completely,
Was it a fire cracker? Or had someone cracked a joke?
The door slammed open, they entered……
Gun’s fire filled the auditorium air with smoke,


I still remember how he tried to keep me safe from them,
Grabbed my shoulders and pushed me out of the way,
His back was drenched in blood,
He soon died of three bullets, fighting like a man.


I still remember they were shooting like psychopaths,
Hitting and drifting the dead bodies like they were luggage,
Shooting in their faces and asking ‘whose shameful son you are?’
Fearlessly everyone answered, “a proud son of a brave soldier of this motherland.”


I still remember how those 141 were brutally killed,
But their killing and drifting has not robbed my will,
I will still go to school and work for my nation hand in hand,
Still I will fearlessly say,
“I’m a proud son, a brave soldier of this motherland!”

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