The Rainy Window of our childhood…..

 

Waiting for the summer rains,

unaware that it would never come.

Spinning out thousand  tales

not knowing where they came from.

 

Fighting over a packet of maggie

or nibbling half a 5 star for hours

nothing was exclusively yours or mine

the little we had was always ours.

 

Choosing a tinkle that has to be read now

the happiness of having saved rupees ten

in the old plastic dabba with a hole

life was pure, pristine and simple then.

 

Come rains off we went to watch with glee

and it was best viewed from the hall.

who would sit which side of Johari’s window

who gets to see the way the rains fall.

 

Both of us perched on its narrow sill,

though unfathomable we did it, but how?

Have we out grown it or has the world,

Pinky, become too small for our love.