Me, then...

Memories, flood in,

The moments, I thought were lost,

By the overwhelming mishappenings,

Has awakened, probably to tell me

Who I was, and who I am,

Erasing away, or may be tearing away,

The disastrous chapters of life…

There were coconut trees in the yard,

It was a low-lying place, surrounded by paddy fields.

Those were special and were my friends,

They were petite, and had a bend-

Making them shorter than what they actually were.

I used to run up on its trunk,

It was one of best pass time in summer.

Sometimes I leaned back on them,

Weaving my imaginations, and making plans,

The mischievous ones, only I knew…

The hiding place for sweet mangoes,

Cheating card games, looking into brother's spectacles,

Watching the ripples, throwing pebbles and even bricks…

Yes, the bricks belonged to the yard walls.

Hiding the bruised knee, falling, running behind the chickens…

Walking to distances forbidden from home,

To pick the fragrant ilanji flowers

 From the dried paddy field…

Yes, the coconut trees drowned upto their crown,

When the monsoon arrived,

And I used to fall into the muddy water 

Around them, just to enjoy the moment,

Of being drenched in what my friends were in;

And tell back home, a story of slipping legs…

The wonderful moments, when I was me.