Let’s travel a little time back,
When we ran back from school:
The bags, shoes and uniform off from work!
With some handful snacks,
Hurrying desperately to ground,
To join the team who was fighting,
Who is to bat for that round!
We called it cricket(May be some times kirrket)!
If the person owning the bat was ill,
That never broke our will!
Put some stones one top of another,
Run around chasing the one hitting the tower!
We called it lagori!
The cupboards were our secret rooms,
One, two, three and when count ends twenty;
Boom! The room gets empty!
Waiting for you to seek the person who is hiding!
Grandmother is going to sleep beside me;
That was a routine fight 🙂
The stories below the dark sky,
Our dreams twinkling brighter than the stars!
No artificial intelligence recognised our voice then ,
But mom always knew what we need and when!
The count of friends and followers were illusion then,
It was about those few idiots always in our den!
Put your nostalgia back,
The time machine is now all blank!
In comparison it finds the distance,
Between parents and kids:
Who fight for prestige and greed!
Ohh those whom we find on the virtual world!
Grandparents still have stories to tell,
No, not from any screen!
But from experiences that they have seen!
Knowing the other side of the world,
Would definitely enrich our glory,
But to forget about our own tongue of wisdom,
Shall one day throw our speaking freedom!
Let’s find the peace in those old laps,
Let’s feel the real life, our cultural life with some pause!
Let’s hold our time a bit,
For in the race of being first,
We are loosing the traces:
That our ancestors left for us, with sheer care and accomplishment!