Amid the whispers of old Kolkata lanes,
Where city lights blend with memory’s strains,
There stands a story, shadowed and stark—
A tale of revolt under the Medical Arch.
Students rose in fervent cries,
Dreams and anger in their eyes,
Through marble halls and echoing ward,
They sought justice, their voices unmarred.
For hours they stood with clenched resolve,
No easy answers could absolve
The wearied hearts, the sleepless nights,
Fighting for rights beneath pale lights.
White coats stained with unspoken pain,
In the institution where life and death reign,
Doctors, the healers, rebels, the same—
Their plea carved deep in history’s name.
And now the air is thick with sighs,
The walls remember, the voices rise,
A silent vow, a dream reborn—
At the Arch, from night to morn.
✍️RRC
