Dreamology - A Childhood Rhyme

POEM BY VINISHA SHRIMAL

(This poem was written as part of a class assignment which required us to talk to an adult at home and find out how their childhood was different from ours.)

From the albums of my father’s mind,

His childhood was one of a kind,

The kingdom where nobody dies,

His childhood world had lesser lies.

Life was good,

Skipping up and down,

And running like a clown,

Scattered stones were around,

Shouting sitolia when completely bound.

Be it kho-kho, kabaddi or gulli danda,

Dad puts down all the techno-fundas,

Playing on mobiles, computers which are all indoors,

Dad only gets amused by the outdoors.

Along the days of dreaming,

And the childhood gleaming,

There were no fans on the school ceiling,

Still the childhood was amazing.

Teachers were strict,

Standing with a stick,

They are still in contact,

They enriched their students, it’s a fact.

Waiting to open his lunch box,

Sharing the food stocks,

After the food fight,

They again ran behind the kite.

Comics had them spell bound,

Chacha Choudhary, Champak were the gifts found.

A Childhood snippet,

10 paisa was enough buy a movie ticket,

Mischiefs caught,

For which daddy fought,

He and his friends made teachers funny sketch,

And also put glue on his bench,

Professor could see daddy's notorious smile,

And he asked him to display the funny profile.

Attending a marriage feast,

Was the only treat,

Poha and other Indian snacks,

Were definitely better than fast food packs.

Costs were low,

Of all lands and bungalows,

Now it’s seen moving with the wind,

Hence petrol and gold are bought thin.

He had interest in sport,

Cricket was his daily port,

Grandpa said,

“No! You need a profession.”

And he had to give in to this repression

Yet my father never told lies,

He made me experience his childhood time,

“Unbelievable”, said my eyes,
The English class made me write this childhood rhyme.