Superstitions Poem by Akhtar Jawad

I can't forget my college days,
Saint Andrews' College,
A sea of knowledge,
Lighted my ways.

The motto of the college, a verse from The Book,
Prove all things, hold fast that, which is good,
In the heat strokes, saved me like a shed and a hood,
Spread wisdom on the souls like a neat cool brook.

Its lawn with thick green grass,
The eucalyptus tree near girls common room,
The noise of girls, boom boom boom.
Without a smile one can't surpass.

The morning starts with assembly in a hall,
Scholars on the left and girls on the right,
White collar boys, a lovely sight,
No indiscipline, not at all.

Constrained by instincts of teen age nature,
Waiting for the procession and watching the girls,
Their pretty faces, the curves and curls,
Enters the principal followed by teachers.

All stand up without any lack,
The principal then reads, the prayer of the day,
Reads announcements, or something to say,
When assembly is over the procession goes back.

The students move to classes in a dignified manner,
Besides the subject they learn many things,
This is the place where thinking gets wings,
The brains turn into a truth scanner.

Besides many things I learned here,
What are the superstitions,
Nothing but illusions,
Spread from one to one another, here and there.

Every evening I used to ride,
With a friend on my bike,
To a place of like,
Outskirts, setting noise aside.

One day we saw two giants at a height,
Demolishing a wall, a building or so,
Terrifying sound, their to and fro,
Really it was a scene of fright.

My friend shouted, you aren't King Richard,
Run away you fool, it is super natural,
For us it may be, very much fatal,
Frightened though but I went forward.

And what I saw a truck of bricks parked at the edge,
Two men, engaged in unloading, were seen,
The dust had formed a big screen,
The street light behind magnifying their image.