Nostalgia

Life,  It is okay if you hurl me a few more hindrances, But give me the strength to conquer them all, It is okay if you make me doubt my very own self, But do bring me the courage to pull myself up once I fall. It is okay if my striving goes truly in vain, After all there need not be rainbows after every rain. It is okay to tread alone, enduring the cold and grey, Even if the pole star never shines to lead forth my way. But do bless me with the perseverance to hold on unto the end, And embrace willingly, my path's every new bend.

I scroll through the poems on my Facebook page, I read them with utmost care, After having contemplated hard, for quite some time, I give it up with vain and despair. For how much ever simple those lines might be, I realize bitterly poetry is not for me. I admire the vacant walls of my classroom, While the teacher recites out loud, Glancing a thousand times at the clock, I so long desire, to be driven free. Incapable of taking in the essence of verses, I shamefully confess poetry is not for me. Never-the-less, I try penning down a stanza or two, But never a word ever comes out of me. With reality clipping my wings of imagination, With a heavy heart I sigh, poetry ain't my cup of tea!

Do you look even a bit like me? I ponder the whole day, had you been here, how you would be. For all the time I waste, would you have taken me to task? Being my 'Big' brother in your superficial pride you would bask. For all the stories I have of infatuation and prank, For everything I needed to share, with you I could be free and frank. I swear to keep it all to myself for whatever you too had to say, Eager to get back to you after a long tiresome day. Would you have guarded me like a soldier, never letting me go out of your sight? For every silly triviality would you have complained, picking up a fight? Pulling each other by the arms, by the legs, by the hair, Yet not for once forgetting to shower your love, blessings and care. I do imagine you in real, knowing you exist only in my mind, You are safe in my childlike fantasies, with you I bind.

[ Inspired from Tennessee William's play "The Glass Menagerie"] I walked carefully down the path leading to the park lest anyone takes the slightest notice of me. It had been a year almost that I was out again for strolling at that hour of the day. A fresh rush of evening breeze nearly knocked me down as I struggled against its force to hold my scarf closely wrapped around my face. I reached my destination within just a couple of minutes hastily to avoid the glances of people on the road that nearly pierced through my soul. I seated myself on a wooden bench at a lonesome corner of the lawn as I watched from distance the children playing and their parents lost in laughter and talk. I was so engrossed with myself that I did not feel the presence of someone else seated on the bench facing mine and staring at me for quite a long I supposed. As I looked up, he responded with a gentle smile. I smiled back. Next, to my amazement ...

It all started from the day my parents left me here on 6th August 2011 under the supervision of another family, complete strangers to me... Yes, that was my first day in Kolkata!!!! Timid, shy and ignorant I was of the way life goes on over here... Being from an industrial town, little did I know of the decorum of the place. On my way to college, I started observing people, trying to figure out, I knew not what... But that was the best possible thing I could have done, to get acquainted with the city from its people.But my college friends were awesome. Initially I could not walk fast (so got occasional pushes from people behind me) and cross the roads. I mean why did they move in such a hurry????? I could not get up a bus.... I lost my way to the place I stayed....I had an odd dressing sense...I could not prepare my own Maggie... I could not walk carefully without tripping over a thing or two and stamping over mud or dung....and on top of all accepted the family of my landl...

Class XI It seems just yesterday when the classes for standard XI commenced for our batch on 16th April 2009. I won’t ever forget the date because the very next day was my birthday and I had grumbled quite a load of times for having to go to school, even on Saturday. The very first day had nothing so special about it except for our bursting enthusiasms and our school’s special morning assembly conducted for welcoming us, the students of class 11 to H.S.M.S, the real hell and prison without the slightest awareness that we were getting roasted under the scorching heat of the sun. You need to "move your toes" the entire time till our founder president was done with with the explaining of his entire travel route all the way from Springfield to our school with his "Me and my wife". No I won’t say HSMS was a hell then for it was the next two consecutive years that followed which were scary to their true extent. We being home students were accustomed to this inhuman ...

Life is so strange. At certain stages of our lives we dream of something, we spin our world of fantasy, yet when we grow up ,our desires and aspirations also change with time and we tend to forget and come out of our childhood imaginations. But those yearnings still dwell somewhere in our minds although dormant however we try to shoo it away with our pragmatic ideas and remark them as "absurd". There are a few things that I have always dreamed of since childhood but now feel ashamed of confronting them with the fear that people may call me immature. Although I do not particularly care about people but I feel the heat of more important issues to be dealt with in life than those and since our mind develops with age, our thought process also undergoes continuous transformation and we no longer feel like feeling the same feelings that we once felt in the bygone years over again. Yet as I said the desire still remains deep inside our soul like a baby in the mother'...