My dearest moma...

When I was born, I saw your face;
I wondered who you were when you cuddled me with care.
Growing up I craved to speak;
I wondered how you understood my babble and squeak.
When I needed you were there;
When I cried you calmed me with your flair.
Growing up I committed mistakes every day;
You spanked me saying this is not the way.
I swore then muttering to myself angrily;
Not knowing it would help me pass life’s scrutiny.
Soon I stepped into adolescence..
As I plod through this difficult phase;
You always try to guide me in your ways.
When my disposition drips of impertinence;
You endure it trying to keep patience.
I regret it then alone in the dark;
On how to reconcile I then embark.
I complain you don’t understand me;
You explain I don’t understand thee.
These misunderstandings make me weary;
As I ponder for hours with eyes very teary.
When you keep prying and see me crying,
It brings me back memories of when I was a child.
You pray for me with love that is eternal.
I love you dear MOTHER.
A word that’ll remain IMMORTAL!!

Reminiscences revisited…

Walking through the busy streets of my locality last December, I happened to meet my school Van Driver. He was totally startled looking at me for it took him no less than five minutes to realize that the little school girl who tested his patience almost every alternate day has now become big. Btw I was called the ‘late latif’ for always being late. I still remember those Dhoom rides when my Dad and I would chase the van to catch up at least at the last stop! ;) The last time I met him was on the last day of my school in ’05! The sight of the grayish compound walls, the beautiful orchids delicately hanging down the porticos, huge palm streets and the irresistible silence left me in a daze. The faint yet distinctive memories of all those annual sports meets, culturals, installation ceremonies, quizzes, debates and the farewell parties revisited my cerebral. There was a strong urge to get back to school as I could feel the adrenaline rush at the very thought! I had a nice chat with him and started walking down street no.7, the one street I would always remember! Nostalgia filled in the air as the chatter of girls, grumbling of teachers, rumble of feet and the voices trapped in those classrooms continued to echo my ears….

It was hard to imagine as a school girl that one day I would miss going to school, miss those boring assembly sessions, those rigorous physical training classes and mass meetings! I studied in one of those strict schools of Hyderabad where paramount importance was given to discipline, the way people spoke, and their dressing. It was a big deal as you could just be thrown out for not wearing pressed clothes, polished shoes and tied ribbons ,while wearing accessories, colored sweaters and even colored clothes on birthdays was a strict no no.!! It was only after these came our acads.Thankfully there was no running behind books day in and day out. One could just feel a sense of uniformity in everything around in Missionary Schools. I’m sure all Annites take extreme pride in confessing that their school uniform looked smart!  (Thanks to those stringent rules and regulations).I had over forty minutes every morning in the van before getting to school. These forty odd minutes always flew by in wearing shoes, finishing assignments and running through Hyderabad Chronicle (as I strived hard to make an effective use of time :P ). The journey across the 4km long OU campus came as a Morning Bliss. It all seems like yesterday when I think of those Monday morning cribbings, incessant classroom sessions, summer vacations, the arch rivalry among the four groups, insignificant cold wars, naive thoughts, tiny disappointments, Miss Annie…

So much has changed ever since then. Locking up the memories in my mind’s eye, I convince myself every single time I think of my past that “change is the only thing which is constant”. I still look up to all those days, years after leaving school, time and again as those were “My Super moments of childhood”.