Park amusements every evening,
Cycling the summers away,
Picnicing Nruptunga hills, carrying with us sandwiches, cake and cookies all 14 0f us.
Being a pest to the rest
(Esp sis n bro)
Playing lagori till we lost the ball or rather until we couldn't find it no more,
Playing badminton till the sunset blinded the shuttle,
And carrom, snake & ladder, ludo, scrabble after that sunset.
TV was turned on when Malgudi days, Ramayan and Mahabharat were on air
And we counted commercials in the breaks.
Then came satellite TV and changed the importance TV had in our lives and that of friends' too.
Some took on to reading books. But many, most, went with the TV.
October cast beautiful skies and stars too.
Festivals and celebrations beckoned us hometownwards
Striked a bond with cousins that careless childhood had shed away.
Evening walks and treks one fed on,
Munching chips and sipping coke.
Opinions commenced to form
And slowly one opened to the world around.
Like Thumbelina.
The wonder(ful) years have taken their rightful place in memory and mind's eye.
Cycling the summers away,
Picnicing Nruptunga hills, carrying with us sandwiches, cake and cookies all 14 0f us.
Being a pest to the rest
(Esp sis n bro)
Playing lagori till we lost the ball or rather until we couldn't find it no more,
Playing badminton till the sunset blinded the shuttle,
And carrom, snake & ladder, ludo, scrabble after that sunset.
TV was turned on when Malgudi days, Ramayan and Mahabharat were on air
And we counted commercials in the breaks.
Then came satellite TV and changed the importance TV had in our lives and that of friends' too.
Some took on to reading books. But many, most, went with the TV.
October cast beautiful skies and stars too.
Festivals and celebrations beckoned us hometownwards
Striked a bond with cousins that careless childhood had shed away.
Evening walks and treks one fed on,
Munching chips and sipping coke.
Opinions commenced to form
And slowly one opened to the world around.
Like Thumbelina.
The wonder(ful) years have taken their rightful place in memory and mind's eye.
7 comments:
...and the gulmohar trees that have significantly depleted to broaden the asphalt that hosts the growing vehicles in a city thats choking with unplanned emmigration.
Sigh sigh.,
Yester years, wonder years indeed.
Somehow the past always seems better. I wonder if we'll write about right now, 15 years down the line? " The golden years" perhaps??
lovely photograph :)
Then came the Internet,
and PC games galore,
So TV too, now seems to be a bore.
Cousins are now a click away,
And Opinions have found a mouth...
For Blogs replace Malgudi Days.
DK-
Sure. I miss the gulmohors much!
Preethi-
Memories are like tht vine, i guess. They become more relishable with time.
Sudhu-
U cudnt have been more right. Everything is at the behest of a click, but the gaps are only widening. Rnt they?
Agree 100% With You. And DK, Man It Just doesn't Make Sense Or Maybe It Just Does. Everyone Caught In A Time Wrap Or Maybe a Thought Wrap As Simi Would Put It. I Wrote One Entry With The Title Wonder Years, And Even She Did. And You Go On To Comment About Gulmohars...
Something Which Has Been Such An Intergral Part Of My Life, Something I Miss Ever Since I Left Home 7 Years Ago... Something About Which I Have Written Often But Have Never Been Able To Post... Guess It Hurts Just A Wee Bit Too Much
You look so sweet here my cutie sister...
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