A poem about: Aaj ami eto gula shommanito shikkhok…

Aaj ami eto gula shommanito shikkhok er shamne dariye kotha bolbo sheta kokhono bhaba hoyni. Ami ekjon irregular student hoye onek afsos kortesi karon jiboner adha shomoy school e eto manush er majhe par na kore ghorer arale boshe chilam eka. Tobe eta Jana chilo ager thekei je ajker din ta dekhte hobe tobe eto taratari? Eto taratari shomoy ta par hoye gelo je ar ektu shomoy e pelam na eto gula manush er majhe thakar. Jokhon bhalobasha shuru kore dilam ei jail ta tokhoni mere dilo amader dhakka? Je jao Ekhon tomra free? Eto taratari? Arektu hashi thatta o korte parlam na amar bondhu der Shathe, parlam na aro class bunk dite. Ar ki parbona amra bolte bondhu der je "bondhu kalke school ashish bolboni kahini"? Parbona ki ar Shikha miss ke jalaite? Parbona ar Yasmin miss ar Fatema miss er boka ar pochani shunte? Shesh shomoy ki eshei gelo amader?

In whispers of today's daunting stance,
I stand before esteemed guides by chance.
A student, irregular, often alone,
Regret shadows the years unknown.

Time slipped away in silent retreat,
Half my life in solitude's seat.
Yet fate hinted I’d face this day,
But who knew it’d arrive this way?

In friendships' bloom, we barely began,
And swiftly, like sand, through fingers ran.
Can it be now, are we truly set free?
The laughter, the jokes, just a memory?

No more tales of skipped classes to weave,
No more in mirth with friends to leave.
No teasing Miss Shikha with gleeful delay,
No more to hear Yasmin and Fatema's say.

Has the end come so soon, so fast,
Closing the door on moments past?
In this fleeting time, we bid adieu,
To teachers and friends who guided us through.

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In whispers of today's daunting stance, I stand before esteemed guides by chance. A student, irregular, often alone, Regret shadows the years unknown. Time slipped away in silent retreat, Half my life in solitude's seat. Yet fate hinted I’d face this day, But who knew it’d arrive this way? In friendships' bloom, we barely began, And swiftly, like sand, through fingers ran. Can it be now, are we truly set free? The laughter, the jokes, just a memory? No more tales of skipped classes to weave, No more in mirth with friends to leave. No teasing Miss Shikha with gleeful delay, No more to hear Yasmin and Fatema's say. Has the end come so soon, so fast, Closing the door on moments past? In this fleeting time, we bid adieu, To teachers and friends who guided us through.