Muses

15. The Eve of my Childhood

I lived in an old old house,
Away from the din and bustle of the city.
My father, he liked peace and serenity.
And my mother, she did whatever made him happy.
So we lived in the crumbling mansion,
Far far away, from all human atrocity.

Adults go about their business,
They have a lot to do,
The same could not be said for me,
I had absolutely nothing to do.

A little girl in a sprawling house,
A little girl as quiet as a mouse.
Who knew no dolls or pretty frocks,
Who knew nothing about shoes with matching socks.

You could say I was an unusual child,
Already bored of the usual humdrum of routine life.
I didn't want to play with anyone,
I didn't want to dance, sing or run.

I liked climbing up the stairs which led me,
To a world which was mine in its entirety.
For I would sit for hours in the attic,
Drowning in thoughts not so static.

You'd think it would be,
Frightening for me.
With the moth eaten drapes,
And the cracked window frames.
But I was at peace there,
For I was at home there.

I liked the familiar unrecognizable smell,
I found comfort in the dusty books on the dilapidated shelves.
I liked to sit on worn out cushions and stare out of the window,
And watch the birds wake up the morning as their chirping would crescendo.

I would push the doors open,
To step into my haven.
For it was my little piece of solitude,
When I was confused.

I would sit waist deep in thought,
I would think of what I should do and should not.
In a world that's all grey,
I had to find my way.

So I grew up with time,
Learnt that things always didn't rhyme.
That this world was not as beautiful as it seemed,
That life wasn't as easy as I had deemed.

But I wanted to explore,
I wanted to learn so much more.
I wanted to let my thoughts blossom,
For then, the eve of my childhood had come.