Tag Archives: childhood

I wish I hadn’t read that one book!

I wish I hadn’t read that one book,

For it was only a single dream that it took.

It was a simple childish fantasy,

But the novice me assumed it for some adult reality.

I wish I hadn’t read those 50 pages,

For I was living in the make belief cages.

Made for me, it was a nurturing cocoon,

But sadly, this was my childhoods only boon.

I wish I hadn’t believed in something, which was so tragic,

For I always thought that it was the truth named ‘Magic’,

Read to me it was, every single night,

And just so, I would wait every morning for my mighty knight.

I wish I hadn’t read about that Liz,

With stepmothers and dwarfs, and that magical kiss,

That romantic comedy, with elements of tragedy,

Which had nothing similar in consideration to my reality.

That Flower!

 

Remember Monica and how clean freak she was?

 

Yep, I am compared to her often. And I have to admit that I am pretty much the same. I will crib when I will see that I have to sleep on the wrong side of the bed, or when the coffee cup is kept on the table without a coaster, and things like that. Things, which no one bothers about.

 

But she also has that door. Remember, which no one knew for so long and when eventually it was opened; it had all kinds of garbage stuffed inside. Yep, I have that too. Well, it’s not a door, I have a big box full of old things, which my folks call unused, unwanted garbage. But I call it memories. Yes, I have stuff in there, which I will never use in my life, and yet I refuse to depart with them. Things from my nursery days, to yesterday! From crayons, to mementos from every place I have been to, memories with all kinds of people I love and care about!

 

So, come Diwali, my people will pester me to clear at least something away, and every year I pretend to clean something out, only I never throw anything out. I make space, I cram things, but I have not yet discarded anything, and nor do I have any such intentions for near future. So today, I sit and pretend just like every year, to clear things out, to clean my room. (The irony is, it’s already cleaned, but since it’s Diwali, I still have to do it!) So, I am utilizing my Sunday this way, and I run across some really old stuff!! This stuff I haven’t met in a few years now!

 

I open that box full of memories,

I take out everything, crayons, to paints, to some Barbie accessories, to slam books, to school photographs, to college memories..

There is a list, I will not bother you with.

A book comes out,

It’s a novel.

I don’t remember reading it.

The blurb brushes my memory.

Yeah, I have read it.

But it wasn’t my favorite.

It was a book read and forgotten!

Then why did I find it here?

I drank that old book smell!!

And as if it was magic, I knew why it was there!!

 

I smiled!

Blushing would have gone too far.

But I smiled, all the same.

And closed the book shut.

Not sure whether to go ahead and look at it.

I hold that book for a while, turning and twisting.

Trying to figure out my next move.

 

Oh what the hell, there’s no bomb inside.

 

I go ahead and open it.

I couldn’t find it.

My heart literally, literally skips a beat.

WHAT THE HELL!!

Where is it?

What did I do with it?

 

Didn’t you say you were going to throw it, anyway?

 

Yeah, but I said so, I didn’t do it.

Definitely not!!

 

So where is it?

 

I scan the pages frantically, and just when I am about to burst (I don’t know with what) I find it.

 

And there is a big smile on my face.

I don’t deserve that smile.

That smile isn’t anymore mine.

I don’t even want that smile back.

But I smile anyways.

And I close my eyes and get drunk

Drunk in that stale smell of books, and words,

Of love and feelings,

Of that naivety and all the firsts.

 

I brush away the tears,

Pretending to be sneezing amidst the dusts.

I sober up from my past,

And I smile anyway.

 

This is what I find there:

IMG_1947.JPG

I know you can’t even make out what this is!

But it’s special all the same.

 

Years have passed by,

People have come and gone,

Feelings have changed,

Oh, the people have changed,

I have changed,

But this still remains special.

 

I smell that old smell one last time,

Tuck it inside the book again,

And close it as delicately s possible.

I don’t want it to rust,

Not now, anyway.

And read a couplet, that I attached in the midst of the pages,

That last time, I had an encounter with this.

 

Vaqt beet te der nahi lagti,

Umra guzar gayi, kai saal beet gaye,

Par tujse mulaqaat kabhi fir hui nahi.

 

Aaj fir mila hai wo tera diya nazrana,

Jise ab tak sambhal k rakha hai,

Kuch murja sa gaya hai,

Par ab tak apna sa lagta hai.

 

Jazbaat, ehsaas, shayad badal gaye honge

Tere, aur shayad mere bhi.

Teri ibaadat ki umeed nahi, Sirf ek unkahi arzoo hai,

Isilye is murjaye gulaab ko bhi ab tak sambhal k rakha hai!

 

I smile,

I reread.

I close the book.

I pack the box.

And put it away.

I know not till when!

 

 

PS: I will hit publish before I change my mind about publishing the Hindi lines. I know it’s not great, it’s novice, and very childlike. But I presume that we all do these kind of stuff once in a while 😀

Monday Morning

Beginning of the week and you already feel why did the Sunday go. So there we were the entire family thinking the same thing, even our guest that is my 14 year old cousin. My parents, my brother, our guest including me had made a small company for the delicious king size breakfast.

I was in no hurry; well they say I never am. I was busy gulping down my steaming coffee accompanied with delicious my-mother-made-waffles drizzled with chocolate syrup. I had just won a battle between eating waffles and frozen yogurt so there I was yet contemplating if I had made the right choice, of course the yogurt wouldn’t mind being eaten the next day.

My yummy thought process was shattered with the question, “What is the time?”

Before I could say anything my cousin spoke to my mother, “My phone is not working.”

My brother was the one informing and before anyone could say anything else my chattering cousin jumped up, “Who wears wrist watches these days? Ever since I know how to see the time it has been on cell phones.”

My brother just laughed it off but I couldn’t keep my sarcasm, “Wrist watches are not just an accessory, they are useful when your phone does not work and also it seems professional to wear one.”

And for the record he literally does not know how to look at the clock and tell the time. It is not his fault that he doesn’t know this but it is disturbing. He has never played in the garden, never known what it is to be all covered in mud and never known the other such trivial moments of the olden childhood.

So what is it? Is the technology taking over everything else? Have we forgotten to relish without them? Will future offices have a mini skirt and track pants for their dress code? Will we lose all the professionalism? Will we forget to write in pen and just remember to type?

I am not against laptops, western dresses or funky offices, rather it fascinates me too but this was just what I thought and had to share.

I know it was just a matter of ‘time’ and a ‘watch’ but this made me thinking and questioning myself. My mind just works that way and it overthinks most of the time.

Image: Google