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My City, Gen-Next, Slammed

A story of two students...

I put out my hand, I put out my hand. I get given a pencil, I get given a beating. My teacher begins to speak, My teacher begins to speak. I don’t understand what’s being taught, I don’t understand what’s being taught.
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By Adwiteeya Shiwakoti

Photo Courtesy: SEnECA



I put out my hand,


I put out my hand.


I get given a pencil,


I  get given a beating.


My teacher begins to speak,


My teacher begins to speak.


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I don’t understand what’s being taught,


I don’t understand what’s being taught.


I ask,


I ask.


My teacher clarifies it for me and I learn,


My teacher beats me for being stupid.


I start to write while laughing with my friends,


I begin to write with my sore hand and one of my friends makes a joke.


My teacher comes and laughs with us too,


My teacher comes and beats him too.


I want to work hard to make my teacher proud,


I just want to go home.


I look around and see such cheerful faces,


I stare at my paper, I can only hear silence.


I will have a bright future,


But what about me?


Because life is good,


No, it’s not.

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