House of Angels.

The bell rang.

I enter the class.

The solid silence

Is broken

by the chirps

Of sparrows and

The perfume of grass…

Never ending smiles

Of children,

Drizzle upon me

(I was an amateur then..

A terrified me..!)

I still remember..

The “shy” boy

From the last bench,

Arose to give me

His name.

I noted down quickly

And went on with the rest..

He was

The first in number..

Was a diligent pupil..

One among the best!

Another “little” one

Gazes at me

From the first bench,

With an infinite grin--

That brings about

A silken glee

Inside my crowded head;

And in some way

He seems endearing..

Makes me chuckle too…!!

As I see them all,

Buckled tight

To their benches,

Ready to roll..

For in me

“They believed”

And probably

Saw an aureole..!

My heart swells

In pride,

Everyday..

At the sight of this

Serene morning routine..

Which shuns, doubtlessly,

My pains of past,

Present, and future, away..!

Suddenly I wake up!

To realise

That this was just a passing dream

I could see them both--

“The shy one” and

“The little one”--

Leaving our heavens

To join the skies…

I can't stop them!

For I was out of breath..

My heart is now

Swelling in agony..

Fighting with empty fists in the air..

“No my angels,

Don't go away!” I lament.

They turn back..

Smile at me..

And sing,

(As if together)

“This is where we belong

Mumma, We're here at

The House of Angels!

Grieve not…

For we'll be right here,

As young

As kind

As brave and

As pure

As you have always taught us to be..!”

With these parting words

They joyously melt

Into a stream of glass-like clouds…

Leaving me drowned,

In streams of unending pain!

--by Rasheeda Madani




(This poem is written in memory of my late students Dinesh and Abu Bakker Siddiq. May their souls rest in peace!)