The days past bring memories nostalgic. 
Turning back is always symbolic.
The days of walk and run present a scenery
of speed and briskness resembling a reverie.
The years of learning and gaining knowledge
depict a planned lifestyle easy to acknowledge.
The period of raising a family and earning
puts forth a system that requires a lot of sharing.
The last days of retirement and solitude
proposes peace and tranquillity that melts down as attitude.
Tag: Past.
She was brooding over the happenings.
She was recollecting the trappings.
Her memory took her long back.
Reminding her of the days in a track.
Once she was a golden girl.
She moved along with lovely frills.
She hummed in musical shrill.
Everyone danced to her drills.
She grew up to become a lovely lady fair
She commanded respect in all the flair.
Gliding through the tracks in a rare,
she evoked a shining glare.
The curtains are falling down.
Her demeanour has become a frown.
Her appearance has lost its glamour.
She withdraws herself into her chamber.
She has to come out of her past.
Eventually accept the present.
Go about with the tide in glory.
That is how we have to end the story.
Categories
The Two Decades
Looking back is a an engaging pastime for me. It is not the literal turning around , but the retrospection that holds my attention .Recollecting the past events, is an interesting and a hand on experience. I stand a little apart ,and gaze in wonder ,as how I tackled the situations ,as how I emerged successful in all my endeavours. Behind all these trials are a series of struggles , a pack of sacrifices, a pile of humiliations, a load of mockery , a collection of losses ,and a heap of perfidy.
The past two decades were a stifling suffocation. My kids were my prime concern. Three boys ,in eight years ,was a dazzling proforma. They were impish at a time and very responsible at another period. They made no serious effort in their early school days. All the three, took things as they happened. They were always in the garden, shouting , playing, cricket one day, football another day and tennis the next morning. The lawn , which was neatly mowed and kept in perfection, would look torn and tattered , much to the agony of my old gardener. Not a day passed without breaking of glass panes, and bulbs in the garden .The whole compound would be strewn with bats, balls ,socks and shoes. Rearranging them was an absolute threat.
The ordeal of bathing them and bringing them to the desk was an extra strain . I used to have severe heart attacks. There is a belief ,that a person can withstand three infractions. But I have survived hundred of such attacks,and still going strong. Putting them in the wheel was an arduous task , but I managed. The eldest will have doubts in Algebra, the second will be doing his English homework, and the little one half asleep will be counting the numbers. I was a three in one teacher, and coped up with this exercise comfortably.
As they reached the middle school level, each one slowly became studious, much to my amazement. Their border line pass, became a distinction . When they stepped into he high school , it was such a smooth transition, they rose to the top rank.The graduation and the post graduation were a simple jump for them They bagged gold in their masters. They chose different fields, business administration, journalism and advertisement. They are making waves in their areas,. They are excellent in their jobs and have registered a tremendous sequence in their avocation.
I had set aside all my passions, my interests, my socialiing for the sake of my children. The writing skill, in me .was dormant all these twenty years. The inclination towards music , which I learnt during my young age ,was shelved . I was not myself. I was primarily a mother, nothing else crossed me, nothing else intercepted my thoughts, nothing else disturbed my composure.
After ,they have taken off , the I in me is surging and raising its head. I try to put it down , by mumbling , that the remaining years would provide a platformto perform and enumerate my talent.
Meenas Poems 