LOST DAYS
recollecting few old memories...
that peculiar smell of wet grass...
that unique sand pattern on ground..
all is the same...
I still remember those swings...
the games we use to play...
searching for ball or shuttle...
across every corner, under every bench
upset on winds that use to blow
changing the course of play...
angry, furious and dismayed
somehow calmed by chocolates on the way...
those fights over first den in the game
without caring for anyone, without any shame...
endless debates on selection of team
easy game with known ones it seems...
choosy in every action, be it be
badminton of silvers, yon ex or Carlton
skates of Yonkers or wrist bands of Adidas
choice of fine marbles for stapoos
or sport shoes for chain-chain...
life was so simple...options in abundance
demands fulfilled every once
no hardships, no targets...n no "expectations"
but changed are the times
grown are we...n far behind left are those days.....
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