The Mid Lecture Hunt

In midst of another boring lecture

After the first forty or so minutes

When the first head starts drooping

With eyes full of sleep and slumber

Faces start turning around,

In search of the savior

Nods are acknowledged

And hissings are passed on

To the most probable ones

But even after shared glances

And a few passed on messages

The eyes are still looking for

That wink of solidarity

That nod of confirmation

From the person who

Always had earlier come up

With the solution to this

Perpetual mid class exploration

Suddenly someone stoops

And faces light up in hope

Of finally making the catch

After the long non verbal hunt

It appears at last from under

The bench held furtively by

The same hand that has always

Brought the half empty water bottle.