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Poem: Ironic Memories of Childhood
This is a poem I wrote when I got a chance to visit a rural corner of the world with a bunch of amazing people. We spent some time with the children of this place, had a camp planned out with many amazing things for the children to experience.
A Week Well-Spent
It was one of those interactions I will always treasure. As I sat to reflect a week spent with a bunch of children in a remote village, I thought of what we as a group did for them. I was glad we could be in their lives and receive so much love and admiration. I was happy to be a part of their childhood memories that are so filled with not so child-like memories.
So, here it goes…
Today I saw the little boy ready to show the world how vulnerable he is,
I met a young girl spread so much joy despite the anger she holds against man who destroyed her family.
I saw little children play hide and seek in the afternoon and practice a theatre performance themed ‘child abuse’ in the evening,
I saw a bully embrace a boy he always picks on.
I saw children from different communities who are not allowed to play together sit together for a meal in the confines of this little safe space.
I see how ironically their stories come together in a little box of childhood experiences.
One day, when they grow old and reminisce good old childhood afternoons,
Amidst their memories of working all evening after school hours,
Amidst thought of the teacher who scared their innocence
Amidst those thoughts of being discriminated for being a girl,
Or belonging to a particular caste or even community,
They will still manage a smile,
Thinking of the paintings up here on these walls,
Thinking of poetry we read out for them,
Thinking of the songs we taught them,
Thinking of the games we played and laughter we shared,
Thinking of you and me and this long and this long lost summer camp we shared.