My Childhood Days - ZorbaBooks

My Childhood Days

Oh! those beautiful days so green,

Live and vivid and a life of cream

The paper boats on roads of rains,

The golden castles of sandy grains,

The bubbles we blew, so

 pure and clear!

A loving chide from an elder dear

A caring hug from my sister near

A friendly chat with a pet so dear,

A colourful rainbow to see and cheer,

The beetles, butterflies, nuts and gums, that filled our pockets till they stung

The crepe and coins and gleaming beads, the shells and stickers, were timely treasures,

more precious than any other pleasure!

The cartons and foils, glasses and pebbles

The paints and needles, the pens and pencils

The freshly painted shoes of white and the dreams we had on the School day night!

The glossy ribbons, white and black, faces painted with the scented talc,

a beauty spot would end it all, a finishing eye line with blackened paste,to ward off bad and evil eyes would simply highlight my chubby face,

Oh, I missed the sparrow’s tails on either side of my lotus eyes

My hair so long was later trimmed, because it hid my brow so thick, the eyes so wide and face so bright!

The cakes and cookies my mother brought,the scones and chocolates,breakfast bread ,my mother’s love can never be sung!

Her busy schedule of the day,kept us all together and true.

Waiting for the cookies and cakes,as she returned from her tones?

All day long she dialled and spoke,and struggled in the city’s Exchange,she headed a team so very big,and gained respect in her office.

She was brave and full of zeal, was it not a daring thing for a simple lass,so frail and thin?

Our middle school was a memory true,when we missed our homework,we did brew !

All the Maths and Physics sums, seemed like burdens, never fun!

The beaten backs and boxed ears, the kneeling downs and ruler treats, are bitter trailers that run and run….

The pause and clause and poetic puns, the missing vowels,boy ! was English fun?

The teachers’ warmth and chiselling words, the undone sums, the language hymns, were Greek and Latin, I remember now!

the dreamy speech, the haughty threats that I had fed my trembling class,

The pride of having led my class, when my words would hush a noisy brat,

The joy of muting all the rows,makes me feel,,

‘Why should I bow?’

The parting tears of friendly girls and a big round of lunching fun, 

all the cuisine across the globe, would never match that menu then!

I still cherish those village times, meeting cousins of our times.

Some so white and some so dark, a mixture of a bag of hues!

The Reds and greens of loving fights ended up in cosy tights!

Do you know those country nights, when we rode on bullock carts, the weary heads leading us, oh! those beautiful moonlit nights!

The blessings of an elder dear, in a village so small and bare,we would just yell and scream,no wires,no phones,no mike’s no buds!

If it were a village fest,we never missed to visit each house,a pretty little group of guests,welcomed by smiles of warmth.

The bounce and pep of country fun,oh! the zest,it was the best!

The birds and animals that we shared, from the depths of a biscuit tin, the gives and takes of kith and kin, can it ever be called a sin?

Could you ever give me back, the fun and joy… have none!

Pool up all the pennies and pounds, all the bundles and change around, level the ground and turn the sky, will they match my childhood days!

Oh!those beautiful childhood days, will I ever be a child again?

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Gayathri Krishnamoorthy