I remember that well,
When my tender hands shivered with fear on the first day
And when my throat was devoid of words on the last.
I remember that well ,
When I learnt to write my first alphabet,
And the day when I signed off with my last letter
I remember that well,
When I first bunked to save my friend 's lie,
And the time when I myself shut the door to those thousand memories.
I remember that well,
When I struggled to learn my teacher's faces ,
And today when I miss no chance of recognizing them.
Apparently, I am into my new world,
Where I look upto people as aliens.
But they are actually not,
Rather the key of my new mysterious world.
The world that awaits surprises and which shall become , the sword of my inner conscience.
- ```Vyoma Joshi```
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