Fun With Memories

Fun with Memory

P K Routray

Interesting I find

introspecting my life behind

stretching my memory lane

meditating on it again and again.

Hazy is my infant memory

It must be a general infant’s story

The funny and foolish part of my childhood days

make me ashamed but still the days with heavy heart I gaze.

Every one might have similar incidents to cherish

A few here I cite those with age and advances may perish

To give a surprise I stayed behind a door

on some elder’s entry I used to roar

to get importance and kidding joy

at this age to my grandkids I apply.

But many times I lost patience because of delay

being frustrated and fed up midway I used to abandon the play.

The paper boats, I made to float on rain water

tearing pages from the note pad with class works from my teacher

only to repent on reprimand but failed in my promises not to repeat

because of the intricacy of binding of the note pad I could not cheat.

Generating a stream of bubbles out of soap water on hollow stick

among peers, seniors and youngsters in this sports I was the pick.

From my elders and my well-wishers resting in their Heavenly abode

confessing my follies and cheatings I beg apology with head bowed.

Once I stole money from father’s pocket to smoke a bidi to steam out through nose

But I took inside the smoke and fell unconscious and kept secret being afraid of blows.

At times I hid my red inked progress report from irate father’s eye

promising to improve I sought mother’s help in my scheme to tell father a lie.

I prayed for and enjoyed the time when guests came and stayed with us

as out of a festive atmosphere my study hours were curtailed without fuss.

I had a craze to eat the ice cubes falling on the earth with first rain

getting drenched I used to collect them and mother’s rebukes used to be in vain.

Stealing a ripe mango falling from tree in neighbors’ orchard

in this art and craft I was not exposed but was an expert and a wizard.