The Old Book

The old book shelf stood silently in the remote corner, After many years my glance fell on it, I felt it was earnestly inviting me, Enthusiastically I went closer to it And gently took a book from its middle part. I was delighted to recognize it was one of my favourite books of my childhood days. The book consisted of interesting fairy tales, Which I loved to read so much at the tender age; Slowly and lovingly I cleaned the dust from its surface And began to turn the pages one by one. It was a delightful moment as I went back to my glorious childhood time, The pages had already turned crinkly and slightly yellow, I noticed the torn papers which I had placed that time in the gaps of different pages to mark the favourite portions, There were some wonderful parts which I had underlined then with my lovely green ink. I found immense peace and pleasure in my old book And smiled gleefully in my mind, I lamented too why I had kept it away so long. Suddenly the sweet spell was over, As someone knocked me and offered me a new book with magnificent and shiny cover, I took it unwillingly and cried out agonizingly, "Again new, the heartless and ruthless drudgery of new feelings."