Poets & Poetry


When sitting in the balcony,
A book propped on my lap.
My mom gets nostalgic about
Her childhood, she says —

Gone are those days.
Gone are my lil’ mischievous ways.

Robbing raw mangoes from our neighbour was really fun,
and when the lady came out we would run!

Running behind tyres with
Sticks in our hands.
Playing with mud,
And making castles of sand.

Eating pickle,
When no one was at home.
Stitching dresses,
And mending what was torn.

Reading was our only source of entertainment.
Laughing, playing, fighting, loving
That was how our days went.

Gone are those days.
Gone are my little mischievous ways.

My mom says this,
With a twinkle in her eyes.
Maybe reliving her childhood,
Secretly in her mind.