Wednesday, June 16, 2010

History repeats itself

Hi to all
With the advent of the new academic year and playing simultaneously the roles of  "Mother " and "Sister" to my little brother {who has come to India for his studies now} and the sudden graduation from 'Young Adult' to 'Responsible Adult' has made blogging a luxury I simply can't afford for a few weeks to come until my Mummy Dearest flies down and holds the fort. Somehow my conscience keeps chiding me about neglecting my blog that has helped me meet so many wonderful people and also explore my creativity. So as atonement I decided to post something I wrote way back in 2006 when I was just a little kid { not that I feel any older now}.
Hope that disclaimer prepares you for the childish philosophy it is filled with. Maybe, you might like it and maybe not, but do leave your comments. My 14 year old self is curious to know how people would respond to the 'ME' of the past.
Happy Reading


My life is constant winter
Something I never realized
For I kept holding on to what were
Moments of my life that I prized

Those weren’t the spring days I thought them to be
Nor the summer nights with a full moon
They were just the sudden bouts of sunshine
That God bestowed on a cold and clouded winter noon

Those sunbeams that warmed my cold heart
So they did for a little time
Were just like the rain clouds that made a farmer
Hope that all things would be fine

The happiness that enveloped me
Knew no limits nor bounds
And such was the intensity of the cold wind
That was sharp, cutting and profound

The sunbeam that gave me joy then
And the chill that the sudden wind gave
Were the ones who in my life
The path to maturity pave

The spring I longed for always
If it came I never knew
But the wind that hurt me always
Never stopped and still ble

My strength lies in the cold wind
That made me forever strong
It blew forever in my ears
A meaningful long song

The sunbeams still keep coming
I simply let them be
For when I’m lone and cold all over
It’s only the wind that keeps me company

The warmth of the sunbeam I still love
But no longer do I depend on them
For now I’m the sturdy young tree
That grew a woody bark from its weather-beaten, delicate stem