Reminiscing Childhood

Stumbling onto closed doors,

scissor like patterned metal gates,

following the faint sounds of yet

another bit of this mosaic world.

I listen to the slow steps of

pairs who enjoy each others’

company; the eager steps of

youngsters, the laboured ones of

men pushing carts, uneven shuffle

of the shop owner who steps

out chatting away to his

everyday loyal customer.

Suddenly, I hear two security

guards hustling in a corner:

“I am reminiscing the days of my

childhood, evenings playing  around

a magnificent park with

multicoloured fountains, vibrancy

all around. The sound of the water

used to be calm and relaxing.

I remember a long gallery,

either side of which were more

fountains, where my dad used to

often catch me playfully dangling

my feet as if it is  a water pond.”

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