Bijay Poudel

Rookie - 1 Points (10th june,1991 / Khotang, Nepal)

Inside An Exam Hall - Poem by Bijay Poudel

Inside an exam hall

I see my mate,
He is settled a little ahead,
Yeah he's like me,
With a good-for-nothing, rebellious head.

And afore us, upon the desk,
Are spread two virgin sheets,
One contains those shitty questions,
And the next one is kept untouched and neat.

Yeah we both hear them swear,
"Nail us, you lousy loafer"
But we chew our pens and scratch our heads,
And assume the profile of an old philosopher.

And there is this fan above,
Hung unto the webbed ceiling,
Like our brains it goes round and round,
Shares the same fate, the same feeling.

I see my mate look at it,
And give it a dire, serious stare,
And then the chap breaks into a smile,
Apparently he's found his answers there.

And yeah he scribbles a line or two,
With whatever the fan had to offer,
With such heaviness and geekiness,
You'd have mistaken him for the class topper.

I am no different; I just can't sit there,
Doing nothing but chewing my pen,
(Which btw has started to taste salty now) ,
But to seek my answers in the revolving fan.

But the fan is no good eh,
What such fuss, my mate had to made,
But then, but then didn't I hear it say,

Now when it comes to being creative,
Being creative inside an exam hall,
It's like, be it any goddamned diseases,
I propose the same therapeutic protocol.

So I wrote about how some passive movements,
Combined with some active assisted range,
And a little of meditation done at the end,
Can really bring about a profound change.

And then i too broke into a pathetic smile,
You see such is the thing called creative power,
I could have answered some more questions, (YEAH WITH THE SAME ACTIVE-PASSIVE-MEDITATION LOGIC)
Hadn't my watch stroked the first hour.

So thanking to the fan above,
For all the divine hints it had lent,
Me and my mate rush out of the exam hall,
As per a previously dealt agreement.

We are at a bar now,
With no questions and answers to choose,
And spread in front upon the table,
Are two blessed bottles of booze.

And yeah we feel good now,
Not that anxious, not that sober,
Extremely glad from inside our hearts,
That the exam crap is finally over.

And I lazily lurk my eyes around,
For I have no protocols to think,
Somewhere I hear a revolving fan,
Kicked off round and round, over a drink.

... Somewhere I hear a revolving fan,
Kicked off round and round, over a drink.

Topic(s) of this poem: Friendship

Comments about Inside An Exam Hall by Bijay Poudel

  • (7/24/2014 1:12:00 PM)

    oh so hilarious, you brought tears to me eyes i was just laughing so hard, wonderful job sir bravo (Report) Reply

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  • Kanav Justa (6/16/2014)

    hahhaaha, , , you have completely nailed it, , , what an amusing write, , , , no one can stop me from sending this one to my poemlist, : P
    , , , great work bijay
    (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Saturday, May 31, 2014

Poem Edited: Saturday, May 31, 2014

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