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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 explore and experience.
A Week Well-Spent
It was one of those memories I will always treasure. As I sat to reflect the week spent with this bunch of children, I thought of what we as a group did for them. As memories came into my mind, I was so 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 were usually 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 the 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, not allowed to hold hands, share a meal in the confines of this little safe space.
I saw irony in their stories that came 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 & this long lost summer camp we shared.