The ‘chooral’ stick
An unrolled rotang stem
It’s from the sacred groves
Like a snake, it climbs on the tree
Are you bearing in mind?
It’s only a green stick
this generation is never familiar
All become alert, full with spikes
Dried out barks are pulled off
It appears pliable polished stick
While we fight each other it strikes
Parents will take it up
It swishes with a whistling sound
Sometimes it looks like a dragon
it looks like a whip.
It looks like a loop
Sometimes we buy and sell the sticks,
To please teachers and parents
Haha, the stick will talk to us
At ones, it will give warnings
It's a presence on the table
It's a presence on the desk
Echoes discipline in boyhood days
Reminds the paining friends also
a burning blister will be in every hand
Weeps in pains laugh later in ground
Within us scary ‘The chooral sticks’ stories
It’s a pointer to mould character.
The magic of the stick brought changes a lot.
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