The grey walls I am writing about,
A cemented block and of course the color grey….
A gloomy color no doubt
But not a tragic story to say.
You can be familiar
With the same faded memories,
Life of difference yet so similar
For even inanimate things have histories.
I am not talking about the past, for all it brings is plague
Nor of the people remarkable or hardly remembered
But those long-gone days so precious and vague
Of tales forgotten the service rendered and non –living life treasured.
The look on your face—-
The confused look that my lines seem a riddle
Not and clear defy time and space
The grey walls I am talking about just recall….
Years ago add or divide the ten
A privileged eyes to enter the magnificent gate
The same hands holding a beloved now holds a pen
Recall those days and count backwards till date.
You and I share the same story
maybe not the same memory.
The days of innocence-yes my topic
A young old grey walls a total nostalgic.
A cartoon bag did you have it too?
Being so tidy just to be untidy
Did you realize we are the privileged few?
To be loved when returned with a bruised knee.
The colors painted the gray classroom
Just to match the new souls so bright
Ravages of time we couldn’t half assume
The gray walls turned bright or bright souls gone white….
Imagination too painted the grey classroom
The question why my blackboard was green
One loving matron coming to broom
The dirty floors magically clean.
The cruel mates who stole the favorite toy
Pencils and sharpeners the latest accessory.
Homeworks would hardly annoy…
as Teachersto tell our favorite story.
Where are those days now?
Could the cycle of life or the parallel universe get it back?
Gone are those days and facing it with ignorant How’s!
Today, yesterday’s tomorrow goes back to black.
Many words,lyrics and poems emerge
Of memories,childhood etc by the greatest poets.
I, a no-one yet, writing a dirge
Not of the dying year but of the dead walls and chalk baskets.
When the world itself chooses to lose it’s value
Or a woman herself willing to give up her virtue
On what absurd subject could my poem be ranked?
…when I simply want to Thank the un-Thanked.
– The grey walls that I recall
– The greatest friends I’ve made
– The place where I learnt my prayers
– And also to tie a shoe lace
– The stories that you and I can share
– -the place where I learnt to love and care
– The unthanked walls still there…………….