I often wonder about the past
What past? You ask.
I think about my little red cycle,
about how i slowly learnt to paddle.
The little me dancing when it rained, I recall,
my bruised knee from that one nasty fall.
I remember how I hid in the bushes,
ready to scare anyone who passes.
Ringing the doorbells and running away,
vacations meant playing outdoors all day.
Brown covering all the books a day before school,
Searching for the perfect pencil box that made you look cool.
Drawing and PT classes meant pure joy.
Crying before your birthday for that one new trending toy.
Birthdays were all about sharing sweets in school,
"Best friends get two" was the unsaid rule.
Never knew of mobile phone and social media,
only Rumours, news, dictionaries and encyclopedia.
The people I played with were all my friends,
Never judged, they were all my best friends.
Getting scolded and beaten for being mischievous,
doing the mischief again, a bigger fuss.
Stealing chocolates, climbing trees,
being stupid and yet life at ease.
We didn't know the meaning of perfect,
we didn't know what is politically correct.
However hard you strife,
time changes your definition of life.
My heart no more dances seeing the rain, that makes me want to be a kid again.
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Happy Children's Day!!!
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Thoughts of a Juvenile
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