i learnt cycling,
the beauty in idling,
enjoyed siestas,
made friends, played so many games
that now i cant recall their names;
many more have been the ways
to grow with fun,
unmindful of the scorching sun
in the magical span of holidays.
these were the times
for kids to grow, they say..
a well-deserved break
from the lessons in rooms.
to start new hobbies, hone skills,
for it's not just books that build.
im now an 'adult', or at least
that's what they ascribe me
as being.
and the sad part?
i never knew when i became one..
and on some contemplation,
i also doubt
if i would ever be,
for the child in me
is what keeps me alive.
as i introspect on that,
i start to ask myself..
have i given the time
to Me?
to discover the person i am,
the identity that i dont have an idea of.
when i've taken
9 months to be born,
and many years to be formed;
doesn't I need some time
to itself,
to become what i am..?
i need time
to think, to weigh,
to judge, to find,
learn, appreciate,
thank, pray..
a time to love, my self too!
time to look into the world,
find my spot in it,
make a World of my own,
and become the I
that is a world in itself.
if all this is too much to ask for,
then we all need to stop growing
right when we drop in,
on this planet, this society.
for what's the use
in not becoming the I's and We's,
a world unto the Self?
we'd rather be machines, rock or nothing
than humans who are gifted to think,
but only learn to undo this trait
and make a joke out of it
by calling it..
life.
