Call out to me once more | Rehmat Singh Chawla

As I obtained my degree and left IIT Bombay for what might be the last time as a student, I struggled to reach the sadness through the sheer surrealness of the idea. I may be back someday, briefly, but I will be different, and so will the people. The endless days spent on those roads are now at an end. I’m still trying to process this, and so I turned, as I often do, to poetry:

Call out to me once more

O rows of desks and lecture halls,
Call out to me once more
O empty roads and rambling walks,
Call out to me once more
O noisy score from room next door,
Call out to me once more
O tree-rimmed lake-edged home off home,
Call out to me once more.

O hours spent slogging, arduous days,
Interspersed with coffee breaks
Rants erupted, tea was spilled
A camaraderie most singular built
O baubled ceilings, nights of vice
Company till crack of light
Through sanguine love and pardoned hate
We forged these friendships ‘spite of fate

O petrichor and sunset-smote
O rooftop scenes and days of birth
O frenzied clicks and lectures slow
O laughs familiar and smiles adored
O haunted rooms and vaunted halls
Give me reason to come home
O memory-laden mud and walls
Call out to me once more.

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