A year ago, just scattered dreams,
Unsure thoughts and silent streams.
Then came a chapter with ink-stained hands,
Sarjana rose where passion stands.
Some wrote of love, some wrote of pain,
Some danced with metaphors in the rain.
Every voice, both loud and small,
Found a home within those E-54 walls.
One year of verses, laughter and thoughtful tears,
Of open mics and conquering fears,
Of trembling hands that learned to write,
Seniors guiding our restless souls to find that light.
Sarjana,
Not pages bound together,
A mind that blooms in every weather.
A family carved from dreams untold,
With pens like silver and hearts like gold.
-NILANSH
SARJANA 