The rusted box

It was dark,

It was eerie.

It was a graveyard.

The sky and the earth were as dark as the jet black soot.

There was not a soul to be seen,

The dark, leafless tress appeared like extensions of the lifeless and forgotten that lay beneath.

The owls hooted and the wolves howled.

The light of the moon was overshadowed by the darkness of the spectral location.

I stood near a grave.

It had my name.

There was a stone on the grave,

It said “the forgotten childhood of mine”

The date inscribed was that of my 15^th birthday.

I grew anxious,

And decided to dig the grave.

I failed to understand what the stone meant.

I kept digging, and found an old, worn out iron box.

The box had gathered dust,

And had all rust.

It appeared as if it had had a bright colour at some point in time,

But that the chains of time had imprisoned its liveliness.

But great difficulty, I opened the box.

What drifted out was unexpected.

A bright, golden, translucent wave of thoughts rushed out,

All my memories of childhood enshrined in it.

It started to spread light in this otherwise lifeless atmosphere.

The darkness was outshined by this speck of light.

Soon, liveliness spread.

The black light turned golden.

And the sad times turned cheerful.

This poem represents how we forget the pleasures of our childhood as we grow up and how our lives have becoming boring and dark without these lively and forgotten memories our ours.

Real Independence

5.45 a.m.: I have been having really weird dreams for the past few days. I’ve been dancing with my favourite actor Akshay Kumar in my classroom! Though I don’t like dancing, I wouldn't mind any kind of dance or song or sport or activity with AKSHAY KUMAR!  For him, I could even quit eating my beloved khakhras and theplas! I am having the same dream at this moment, but my dream is interrupted by maa’s voice which says that it’s time for school. I use the good old ‘two-minutes more’ trick and stay in bed for the next 15 minutes.

6.00 a.m.: I reluctantly open my eyes and finally wake up. The scrappy sister has my soft and  mulayam rajai on her body. I grin at her and proceed to brush. My mind is so filled with Akshay Kumar thoughts that I even see him in the mirror while brushing. All of a sudden, he vanishes. It is at this moment that I recall that we have a physics test today. I do my usual uff and just get out of the bathroom which is putting these study thoughts in my mind.

6.30 a.m.: After having a long, care-free bath, I am sitting at the dining table, with a bowl of Cornflakes in my hand. I am eating and simultaneously putting on all the ‘accessories’ that I put on with my school uniform. I leave for school.

7.00 a.m.: I am sitting in the bus, doing stupid things with my dearest Srija. We are forcing an innocent guy from our bus, whom we call ‘Bella’ to do a Hawaiin dance, which he does in a really hilarious way. We blurt out laughing like lunatics and the whole bus just stares at us as if we are Shahrukh Khan and Amitabh Bachchan. It just seems surprising that we have all forgotten about the physics test.

7.30 a.m.: I reach school and do my daily duty which is a part of my responsibilities as School Captain. I really enjoy this duty, though it is nothing more than asking kids to move in a line. I have a regular set of people who say ‘Good Morning Didi’ to me every day. Some call me ‘ma’am’. I just don’t understand how you can call a person ‘ma’am’ when she is standing sakshat in front of you in the same uniform as you!

8.00 a.m.: I reach the class and meet and dear bunch of mad friends. Tina smiles at me as usual. Shruti gives me an awkward smirk. Tanaya and Dibya are talking (I give them the usual glare as I know that they are trying to crack some stupid joke).Ketaki looks at me in her usual gangster expression. I also look at Meena, a person who was the most important to me at a time, but has just changed so much that she just doesn’t converse with me. The ‘hum juda’ music plays in my mind.

8.15 a.m.: Our dearest Bhagyashree ma’am enters the class. We all stand up to wish her. Today is a Wednesday, and we have something called a ‘Quality Circle Time’ in which we discuss our ideas and views about different topics. Since Independence Day is arriving soon, ma’am asks us to discuss the importance of Independence Day. I immediately hear people say things like ‘urgh, why Independence Day?’. I also see all the frustrated faces. The discussion starts and everyone expresses their views. People mainly talk about how Independence Day invokes the feeling of nationalism. I talk about how I move into flashback and think about what this day would have been 70 years back. Suddenly, a boy stands up and says that the reality is that Independence Day is just another holiday for us.

Though it’s really sad to hear, it is the reality. We find the tricolor flags in our hands on 15^th August, but on the roads on the next day. We don’t even take part in the proceedings and often plan trips. We don’t even wear a kurta on this occasion! We don’t think about the sacrifices made by our ancestors, but we keep cribbing about how the nation isn’t developing. We say that since we are going to shift to America, we don’t really need to celebrate this day. Independence Day programs are hosted in English!

What kind of independence is this? If we wear English clothes, use English language during cultural proceedings, and if we dream of shifting out of country in the future, how are we independent from the English? If we throw our flags to the ground, do we even deserve to be a part of this prestigious nation? If we can’t be proud to wear our national or traditional dresses on such a day, then what kind of Indians are we? Are we really independent?

Change starts with us. The British left us long back. But their views have now left us yet. We just don’t give enough respect to our country. I personally admit it. I think my country deserves more than what I, or we give it. We can start by changing on this Independence Day. We can start this Tuesday.