My Little Hometown...

Whenever I get a chance to be there,

Memories went by seeming so near,

The small houses all humbly lined up in rows,

How I moved for a good living, leaving those.

We were lucky, we didn't have screens,

We were a bunch with boisterous screams,

We had soil, tears, wounds, stories, sweating,

When we used to return home every evening.

Teachers were a terror for us but with love,

They gave us the toughest tasks to solve,

We gave a damn how we looked, what we wore,

All we aspired was to be with friends galore.

There were neighbors, who meant a lot in need,

We didn't have a digital tool with a social breed,

The school was so much fun with those friends,

They are far off now, maneuvering life's bends.

Driving in those lanes, we grew up with things,

Brings many memories of sweet nothings, 

When life used to be all fun and full of frolic,

When being away from town made us homesick.

How life has moved in many curves here, there,

The tiny town encapsulates what you really are,

Mornings are still misty, far from city's whine,

The cuckoo still sings, amid splendid sunshine.

The town gave us our first friend, our first class,

That laughter, the first love, that friendly bash,

It gave us those first dreams, that idea to survive,

Way off abundance, we had just a handful of vibe.

In winters, the town is quiet and cold with an uncanny silence,

The warm tea, familiar friends and the untold stories of resilience,

As if my town wants to whisper something to me,

As if I miss my town as much as it misses me.

In the crowded big city that I live, living is a task, 

I have left another life there for a costly mask,

A mask to cover my wounds, tears, anguish, and pain,

How I want to go back, wear a mask to be a child again!