Mcc- My Alma Mater Poem by Khairul Ahsan

MCC
Just three letters,
Represent my Alma Mater,
Momenshahi Cadet College,
A name permanently etched
In my heart, and will so remain,
And shine forever, will never wane.

It was a day of torrential rain,
The Seventh of July, Nineteen Sixty Seven.
We, a raw bunch of fifty six pre-teen agers,
Set out from our home amid rain and thunders,
For an unknown place that was named as Gorai
With the Gojari trees around, rising very high,
Some offshoots of River Gorai, flowing nearby.

By the afternoon our parents had departed,
Leaving us in the care of the Staff appointed.
We were lined up, as the NCOs got us sorted
As per our Houses, to where we were escorted.
When darkness fell, our Room Captains came
And showed us our bed, a taped steel frame,
A chair, desk and cupboard, each on our name.

After dinner we were taken to the Common Room
Where we could play ping pong, chess and carom.
For the news seekers there were few newspapers
Rest of the room was occupied by just onlookers.
Then at the strike of ten when a bugle was sounded
The lights were put out as we were quite astounded
To see everyone quit all and rush to their own bed.

And that's when came the discomforting moments,
As memories of home began unfolding in segments
Like a celluloid tale in our tender minds' canvases.
With subdued weeping, some counted life's curses.
Some eyes turned red and some pillows got wet,
The jackals crying outside made us more upset.
Some wise souls wondered: Is this the life of a cadet?

And thus slowly came to an end our first day at MCC,
The next day began with a rush that we didn't foresee.
The rush to visit washroom before the morning 'Fall In'
And to get dressed up for PT and wait to be called in.
The first night's woes were soon to be forgotten,
Our Houses became our home, a family we had gotten.
And our lives got tied to orders, both oral and written!


Dhaka
15 May 2014
Copyright Reserved.