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my childhood
#writcopoemprompt49 @atulpurohit
The days of slate and chalk,
are not easy to erase ,
They hold memories
of my childhood,
When I Was Born,
I Was Wrapped in a sack ,
My grandmother told me,
my complexion was very dark ,
as compared to other sisters and brothers,
I was the sixth child of my family ,
In those days the population was less ,
my father used to sell eggs in the nearby town on a bicycle,
grandmother and father put a condition of half kg of desi ghee on my black complexion ,
My father won and day by day my complexion became fair,
The days of slate and chalk ,
are not easy to erase ,
they hold memories,
of my child hood,
When I turned to 5,
I was admitted to a school nearby ,
where I find myself under my class teacher's table ,
My little little hands used to press her fatty legs ,
When she used to massage ,
go on calling me Khadija,
kora you come here ,
kora was the eldest in the class ,
she used to press the feet of the teacher,
The days of slate and chalk,
when i became monitor of my class,
We used to sit in a garden near the headmistress's office ,
whenever i go to office ,
my headmistress hug me,
kiss me as my rewad of study,
The days of slate and chalk,
are not easy to erase,
they hold memories
of my child hood,
when i was 7years old
We used to play black and yellow tillu in our street
The days of slate and chalk,
are not easy to erase,
they hold memories ,
of my childhood,
when we use salati instead of chalk ,
By tying a piece of foam with a slate ,
pouring water into a small bottle ,
After writing a little,
used to spill water,
and clean the slate with foam,
The days of slate and chalk,
When i used to sleep on a small cart ,
two boys would come and make my cart a swing ,
they used to sing
while swinging the cart,
Nani Nani you are Nani
The days of slate and chalk,
are not easy to erase,
they hold memories ,
of my childhood,
When I started studying Arabic ,
my elder brother used to take me to study,
There was a vine of grapes,
we were not allowed to pluck grapes,
but we lived on leaves ,
First we would wash the leaves,
then put salt on it ,
and make it a paan,
I used to fall asleep,
when I was tired ,
We used to come home,
without reading any more ,
The days of slate and chalk,
are not easy to erase,
they hold memories ,
of my childhood,
In which
I am standing on the bank of a river, calling my brother ,
I didn't know swimming ,
but I wanted to take a bath ,
that was my first and last swim ,
Brother carried me on his waist ,
carried me deep in,
I still feel the floating ,
The days of slate and chalk,
are not easy to erase,
they hold memories ,
of my childhood,
When we settled a Gudiya's mariage, in the afternoon ,
Cook rice in small utensils ,
play utensils and spoons,
in welcoming baarat,
The days of slate and chalk,
are not easy to erase,
they hold memories of my child hood,
the day when boys and girls ,
used to play together ,
When there was no Facebook and social media ,
We were at 4:00 pm Used to start waiting,
2 hours before,
for 30 minutes drama on tv ,
The street children started gathering ,
everyone asked the same question ,
over and over again,
what is the time by your watch?
The days of slate and chalk
When we went out in the stormy rain,
the jambolan fell from the trees,
land was filled with jambolan,
we used to eat them ,
we use to bath in the rain,
we make paper boats ,
by tearing all the pages of old copies ,
The days of slate and chalk,
are not easy to erase,
they hold memories ,
of my childhood,
we could not understand the meaning of rainbow,
when the rain stopped ,
we used to peep into the moon ,
with the power of the eyes ,
for latehours ,
we used to count the stars ,
Sometimes we thought selfliy,
we were not like that ,
it was our trait,
Mummy told us that an angel has brought ,
The thought that we used to be happy in the heart of the heart ,
The days of slate and chalk,
are not easy to erase,
they hold memories ,
of my childhood,
Those were the days of leisure,
those were the days of carelessness ,
those were the days of free talk,
the days of slate and chalk,
are not easy to erase ,
they hold memories ,
of my child hood,
rabia hanif.
© Isa cordinator R. H
The days of slate and chalk,
are not easy to erase ,
They hold memories
of my childhood,
When I Was Born,
I Was Wrapped in a sack ,
My grandmother told me,
my complexion was very dark ,
as compared to other sisters and brothers,
I was the sixth child of my family ,
In those days the population was less ,
my father used to sell eggs in the nearby town on a bicycle,
grandmother and father put a condition of half kg of desi ghee on my black complexion ,
My father won and day by day my complexion became fair,
The days of slate and chalk ,
are not easy to erase ,
they hold memories,
of my child hood,
When I turned to 5,
I was admitted to a school nearby ,
where I find myself under my class teacher's table ,
My little little hands used to press her fatty legs ,
When she used to massage ,
go on calling me Khadija,
kora you come here ,
kora was the eldest in the class ,
she used to press the feet of the teacher,
The days of slate and chalk,
when i became monitor of my class,
We used to sit in a garden near the headmistress's office ,
whenever i go to office ,
my headmistress hug me,
kiss me as my rewad of study,
The days of slate and chalk,
are not easy to erase,
they hold memories
of my child hood,
when i was 7years old
We used to play black and yellow tillu in our street
The days of slate and chalk,
are not easy to erase,
they hold memories ,
of my childhood,
when we use salati instead of chalk ,
By tying a piece of foam with a slate ,
pouring water into a small bottle ,
After writing a little,
used to spill water,
and clean the slate with foam,
The days of slate and chalk,
When i used to sleep on a small cart ,
two boys would come and make my cart a swing ,
they used to sing
while swinging the cart,
Nani Nani you are Nani
The days of slate and chalk,
are not easy to erase,
they hold memories ,
of my childhood,
When I started studying Arabic ,
my elder brother used to take me to study,
There was a vine of grapes,
we were not allowed to pluck grapes,
but we lived on leaves ,
First we would wash the leaves,
then put salt on it ,
and make it a paan,
I used to fall asleep,
when I was tired ,
We used to come home,
without reading any more ,
The days of slate and chalk,
are not easy to erase,
they hold memories ,
of my childhood,
In which
I am standing on the bank of a river, calling my brother ,
I didn't know swimming ,
but I wanted to take a bath ,
that was my first and last swim ,
Brother carried me on his waist ,
carried me deep in,
I still feel the floating ,
The days of slate and chalk,
are not easy to erase,
they hold memories ,
of my childhood,
When we settled a Gudiya's mariage, in the afternoon ,
Cook rice in small utensils ,
play utensils and spoons,
in welcoming baarat,
The days of slate and chalk,
are not easy to erase,
they hold memories of my child hood,
the day when boys and girls ,
used to play together ,
When there was no Facebook and social media ,
We were at 4:00 pm Used to start waiting,
2 hours before,
for 30 minutes drama on tv ,
The street children started gathering ,
everyone asked the same question ,
over and over again,
what is the time by your watch?
The days of slate and chalk
When we went out in the stormy rain,
the jambolan fell from the trees,
land was filled with jambolan,
we used to eat them ,
we use to bath in the rain,
we make paper boats ,
by tearing all the pages of old copies ,
The days of slate and chalk,
are not easy to erase,
they hold memories ,
of my childhood,
we could not understand the meaning of rainbow,
when the rain stopped ,
we used to peep into the moon ,
with the power of the eyes ,
for latehours ,
we used to count the stars ,
Sometimes we thought selfliy,
we were not like that ,
it was our trait,
Mummy told us that an angel has brought ,
The thought that we used to be happy in the heart of the heart ,
The days of slate and chalk,
are not easy to erase,
they hold memories ,
of my childhood,
Those were the days of leisure,
those were the days of carelessness ,
those were the days of free talk,
the days of slate and chalk,
are not easy to erase ,
they hold memories ,
of my child hood,
rabia hanif.
© Isa cordinator R. H
