That summer morning
The breeze I felt in my backyard was not ordinary,
It came as a magic wrap with childhood inscribed,
The childhood I had locked up beneath and left forgotten
In the heap of memories.
It had the smell of jasmine smeared in mud ,
And music of familiar voices that close to my heart I hold;
It also had the dampness of monsoon I grew drenched in
And the sweetness of bird songs, I was cradled by.
If the magic breeze were to touch me again
I would hold it in my breath for a moment too long,
For I fear that my old self won’t revisit in all its etherealness!