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For I.I.Sc.

You may still the breath of our lungs.

The excitation of our nerves,
Agonies of screwed-up gels,
The somnolent labmeets,
Sessions with boss,

Journal club inanities,
Cold hostel rooms,
Bad mess cooking,
Paper-rejection angsts,

Debates over coffee,
That nervous colloquium,
That boring thesis-writing,
The rising thrill of discovery,

That hasn't changed. You failed Mister.

(In response to the I.I.Sc. terror attack)

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