My Head teacher’s graffiti on the wall

Contemporary Poetry Anthology by Santosh Kumar Biswa

My Head teacher’s graffiti on the wall

Early morning, in front of the still assembly With six hundred eighty heads facing down, Yield, my head teacher so furiously gazing Who without quetch doesn't get satisfied Every single day, from the start of school.

His frustration, more unique than ever After his first ever rhythm in the campus, Filled with wrath upon seeing the graffiti On the wall towards the right corner Of the school toilet, so nasty and horrifying.

The bulging nose and saggy hair in it, Reminded me of his untimely remarks. Both its eyes facing North and South, And a black stain on its shiny bald head Reminded me of his disorganized schedule. And the round face that the graffitist made Reminded me of his anger so wild.

Contemporary Poetry Anthology by Santosh Kumar Biswa

Quite delightful I was when I first viewed it, On the inscriptions who made earnestly. Merely, he wasn't because it wasn't appealing To dirty the wall unevenly in cruelty.

Often, he asked, ' Who did it?' so harshly But, the answer he got was the giggle. All those values he gave went away When everyone dispersed for classes to begin.

Quietly he paid the second, fully unsatisfied, Sticking out in front of the graffiti he referred. Every part he visited, found himself in it, Of his manifesto so clear like a mirror. And appreciated the graffitist in his head And concluded, 'Change for change’s sake.'

Astonished I became when fell my eyes on him, To see a stone melting like the glacier, That flows till the base so gently, And the power of the graffiti, although ugly, On the uncommon place less visited.