Recollections Poem by Venkateswaran Krishnan Sreenivasan

Seventy plus! Still our minds long to meet
And talk, as our bodies drag our feet,
Minds enriched with an immense past
To pour out, in torrents, unto the last

In vivid image, come our follies alive,
Our adventures and youthful blunders too;
As our classmates revive the still beehive
Of our old campus life without much ado

In nineteen hundred and eighty
Was our first meet in twenty years!
Well-attended homecoming in unity,
Bonhomie, exhilaration and cheers

Ageing, distance and declining health
And to top them all, depressing death
Did dwindle our two subsequent meets
Still, we stand out in colors in alumni meets.

Some of us carry on our mission of care,
But some need constant homely care,
Some chose a transformed role to play
To preach, evangelize or pray.

Gardening, horticulture and handcraft
Are new hobbies some hold aloft
Babysitting too for grandchildren
Is a pleasing pastime to most women

Ambition and ardour earned us a name,
But we didn’t aim at a fortune or fame,
With grace, we greeted whatever that came,
With prudence, we shunned all deeds of shame.

A few have found their alien homes
And added richly to their values and norms;
From their stories we need to learn
The art of living in our short sojourn










Old age brings its travails to all
Like the seasons to the plants at fall;
Gray hair and wrinkles adorn us all,
Pray! A prey to sickness we may not fall.

Sickness strikes by stealth and deceit
To test our virtue, faith and grit;
Immortal works were born of men
In affliction, with their heart towards heaven

Many of our teachers and classmates are dead,
We reminisce them at this hour with dread
Of our own impendent common fate
That shall befall us anytime early or late.

Dreaming of the future is a vain pursuit
To accomplish nothing; it bears no fruit;
Work, work, in the living present!
Faith within in the omnipresent

Home, sweet home, children, their children
With their frolics and prankish things
Transform us into true children,
To fly back through time, they give us wings.

Our departed teachers were outstanding men
Of simplicity, sincerity and devotion;
We bow before these revered men,
In grateful homage ad supplication

Those, whom the God loves, die young
Gripped by the earthly woes, unsung,
We pay our obeisance to these gems of men
And women compatriots and say amen.

Let’s clear our mental cobwebs everyday
By contemplation and meditation;
A cleansed mind will guide the way
To saner thoughts and salvation