The Ruins of Childhood

Brief discussion about
respective childhoods –

Is it true that once you
pulled a monkey into your
already heavy school
bag? Because you thought

It shouldn’t have to go
fight a war against Ravana?

Is is true that once you
cut your grandfather’s already
sparse hair, when he gently
released his afternoon snores?

Where were our phobias
born, and nurtured in the days
when they were as yet nameless.
Your fear of dark.
And your fear of dirt?

And our love for pickle.
Where did it all begin
in the breathlessness between
three year old bravery and
twelve year old heartbreak.

Or the time that you decided
to cup water into your tiny
palms for a sparrow that
looked thirsty
to your summer eyes.

The seasons in our respective
childhoods, like jackfruits have
become heavy with
ripe memory.

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0 Responses to The Ruins of Childhood

  1. Niranjan says:

    ur poetry is great.
    i didnot understand why u relate 3 year to 12 and that too when ur double that age. is there any instance that pulls u back by a decade or two?

    Like new structures fades slowly as it ages so are our fears,attitude towards truthfulness etc. May be that the way of life.
    i am certinly missing some of ur imagination.


  2. Anonymous says:

    I am not missing any of your imagination. In fact, the imagery is stark. Monkeys, jackfruits, grandfathers – What else does your mind hold neha?

    Perhaps you’re right… thta is when we grow, and learn to be ourselves.. phobias are learnt and habits are picked up. Childhood is the wonderfulest time…


  3. Ph says:

    Love the poetry. Thank you for sharing.


  4. Anonymous says:

    Looking for ideas .. contribute please



  5. Neha, loved your blog. Nice poem. Don’t remember how I reached here but glad I did. Looked at some of your other blogs too. Liked your collection of old family pics.


  6. Anonymous says:

    i liked ur poem, even ur blogs. they are really nice yarr. i am nt any expert to comment on ur poem but yarr “woh poem dil ko chhu gayi”