Sunday, June 12, 2011


It seems we are not
Talking of the same days ---
There were only
The little dreams then
Not the grandiose ones
Only the grown-ups have
All we wanted was
A new top
That orange striped shirt
A few more marbles
Matchbox labels
More and more sweets every day
We stood looking
Longingly at posters of new films
We would have to wait
At least for a month to see,
There were different versions
Of what the story was
From peers who had claimed
To have seen it the first week,
Finally when we got to watch
The real thing on the silver screen
We waited in vain
For the scene
The friend had described with relish
Complete with sound effects,
He refused to admit
It was all his own
Insisting it had been cut
To reduce the length ---
All you remember
Is the chameleon you killed
Invoking the myth
To justify the wanton slaying,
The past has changed its colours
Disappearing into the undergrowth
I keep looking for the boy
Happy with a new top
You do not know him ---
Before you leave
Switch off the light
Take your words with you
I love the darkness.

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