Scars

Little hearts pounded in fear
of fat teachers with spectacles and canes;
for unfinished homework was looming tall
besides the holidays of innocence that lay slain.

The kite was torn and tangled,
forgotten; while it hung on the electric wires;
freedom was being taught in the history class.

The crayons and pastels unreachable,
safe in daddy’s cupboard, while
a geometry box encroached the artist’s desk.

Snatched and put away in the corner,
was an aspirant’s bat, the spelling test
had words like ‘effort’ and ‘determination’

Wounds inflicted by the bicycle,
heal, and are soon forgotten.
It’s the impositions and punishments,
that leave lasting scars of humiliation.

-- Sujay Sukumar