Childhood, What A Cherished Song

I still remember Madhavas1 so well, A water-hole to unwind in sweltering June, From crusty school-fields to dusty farm-fields, And do-nothings— morn to night's silver noon! How once we arrived in a bullock cart That moved in a matching speed with the night— All of eight miles that lied apart, We reached as the dark night kissed dawn good light. I was one amid a cart-load Of kids most of whom were sleepy, My sleep hijacked was by stars and planets, Who too no less excited seemed to me. The oxen pair called each to each, The cart-man when sang clearing his throat, At dawn, stars too tired went to sleep, We reached— wrapped in a dusty coat. And then I heard a bird singing Close by, that proclaimed reign of dawn, A few more birds called confirming, In symphony welcomed newly-born morn. Once there I met river Mahi2 That'd charmed old folks to choose this place, Flowing bank to bank all seasons, Some elders told us old tales of her face. The village was because the river was, Its life along the flowing waters flowed— From pre-bath chores and all-after, Swim and loiter till sun to zenith strode. Or else, we chose choicest mangoes Which, my month-long pass-time was, Men guarding fields our only foes, And roaming lush green fields, no pause! And one month passed like one short turn, All day was song— sun-rise to sun-set, And soon alas it was time to return— To tired routine by elders set, no let. A lot gets lost when from tired mind, How this imprint lasts for so long? We live and leave a lot behind But childhood, what a cherished song! _____________________________________________________ Madhavas1: A small village in west-central hills of Gujarat, and a native place of my father. Mahi2: One of the major rivers in Gujarat. A revised version is here. The old caption: Madhavas on river Mahi. Akhtar Jawad A journey so poetically described that it enchants its readers, I feel as if I was also there with you. Thanks Pathak Ji for sharing this poem. (Report) Reply Aniruddha Pathak(2/11/2019 6: 00: 00 AM) Beautiful sentiments, Ahtar Jawad, Madhavas was my father's native place. Alas, very little is left of it save some memories. some pictures are very vividly etched within. Thank you. ______________________________________________________ Nostalgia | 03.09.12 | Topic: village, remember, childhood