They always teach you to look ahead and never to look back;
Life, they say, is about the future, the past is “in the sack”.
And yet it is the past that beckons, with memories sweet and bitter;
The first few friends, the childhood games, the parties, and the
glitter.
There is always that wish, to go back there, to reverse the flow of
time –
To visit those places where memories hang, forever sweet and sublime.
Did just that after forty years, made a trip to the place of my birth –
The quaint little town, where my childhood was blessed, with fun,
frolic and mirth.
The house that I called home, was just the same, beside the Mohua tree,
The yard- trees were old; the people were new, and surprised to meet
me.
The garden gate still scraped the ground, and the trees stood dark,
like my childhood fears,
The grape-vine that my Father had planted, was still around, after fifty
years !!
One school of mine had grown immense, with new classrooms and a hall,
The second one was just the same, with the broken gate and all.
As kids we rode bikes in that town, to places both near and far –
This time the distances were that much smaller because I was in a car.
All the houses of all my friends were exactly in their place,
It is just that after all these years, of those friends, I found no
trace.
And then as I travelled those roads again, one thing was clear to me –
The childhood pictures got a fresh coat of paint, but, alas! Only
memories will they be.
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