Village Diary

The sky sparkled in sublime thunder,

The rain-filled, little puddles in my village street,

My Classroom was the open sky,

And I was a growing bird with wings,

My learning was to gaze at the beauty of nature,

The banyan was my best friend, with childhood memories,

Didn't I miss the experience this time around?

My village lost, friends appear old, a little tired, having all household responsibilities.

I dearly miss their innocence,

I look like a child in front of them,

Still with the cattle, playing the flute,

In anticipation of recovering the lost pages of my village diary, long lost in turbulence and times brute force!