Indian Upbringing(A Poem)

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vinodks

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Doston,
I was sitting idle on weekend feeling nostalgic about life in general and thought of putting milestones in a boy's life in rhymes. General tone in following poem is valid for any Indian boy, particulars were borrowed from my memory, and I tried to make it witty and nostalgic. Read when you have some time free.
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Indian Upbringing

When I was born the full moon shone over rainy clouds
Mom says all peacocks danced too but I have doubts.
Grandma says I learned to walk at one and talk at two,
And adds that I had three eyes and almost died by flu.

When I was three I began to flay peanuts and peel mangoes,
Loved to ride Grandpa’s shoulders and ate roasted potatoes,
At four Mom taught how to tie laces, Papa taught how to see O'clock
And Didi explained why the moon walks behind trees when we walk.

When I was five we started playing kho-kho and football,
Had crush on a teacher but she said I was a little too small,
I still used to bite, Mom still used to put black-soot in my eyes
Until I was six and Grandpa went somewhere up in the skies.

When I was seven this world was so new,
Summer days were long and sky pure blue
Once I slept while reading, then suddenly woke up and saw
That I had turned eight and cruel winter has jammed my jaw.

When I was nine Ramayan was new on Doordarshan,
Loved Parle-G, hated Uncle Chips; cycling was fun
But I still used to dream a howling wolf, until one night
I turned ten and killed the beast dreaming a bloody fight.

When I was eleven Manmohan made a big leap,
JEEs were tough, ice creams were damn cheap,
Juhi Chawla was on top, and after I blew off twelve wicks
I was in a new school and they taught us to fight with sticks.

When I was thirteen I wore white shirt and khakhi half-pants
Got fat by eating too much Razma and daily dose of reprimands,
Hostel smelled like hospital until after fourteenth birthday
I left hostel and once again world looked happy and gay.

When I was fifteen I believed in true and pure love
Wandered in lonely streets blinded by longing and awe,
Sang old Hindi songs, cut Madhuri's pictures from newspaper clips
Until I was sixteen and learned it’s all about hips, lips and finger tips.

When I was seventeen, I fervently believed in Ayn Rand
Read Hemingway, saw Basic Instinct, ragged freshies and
Wrestled with loneliness by writing amateur poetry
Until I was eighteen and had to begin for GRE.

When I was nineteen, in my dreams I heard
That I have a very special place in this world
Like a balcony in Broadway, but at twenty
I’m sitting in the front row and hall is empty.

When I was twenty one my dreams burned in pure green flame
I landed in a far-away country and learned rules of new game.
At twenty two, life smelled like beer, heart smelled like rotten yoke
I thought I knew everything and dreams gathered yellowish smoke.

When I was twenty three, one day my eyes met that of a strange girl-
With diamonds in her shoe-soles, rubies in eyes and teeth like pearls
She said “Our time will come!” and vanished; still at twenty four
Her memory takes my breath away. Am I alive? I am not so sure!

----------- To be continued, will get back after few decades :-)))))---
 
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good work

Hmm…nice!

We have a whole bunch of poets here.
I’m sure the next part would be more thrilling than this.. ;)

[Mom still used to put black-soot in my eyes…. :D .]
 
very nice looking forward to see the 2nd part of your unfinished poem. :)
 
really nice anthology of the reminiscenses , WHEN OFT UPOM MY COUCH I LIE
IN VACANT OR IN PENSIVE MOOD THEY HIT UPON MY INWARD EYE WHICH IS THE BLISS OF SOLITUDE
 
Good one Vinod.

Sehrawat sahab,
you reminded me of wordsworth by quoting the lines from one of his masterpieces - daffodils.

Here is the complete poem:

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed--and gazed--but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

Cheers!
-Vikas
 
Dear Vinod: You are a multi talentd guy! Besides being a very good volleyball player, marathon runner, you are a good poet too. Very nice, keep it up.
 
Ram Aryaji, namaste, I am delighted to see you on website.

Also thanks guys for responses and since junta liked it let me post another poem on the same theme of childhood memories, orginally published in sulekha. If we look back even trivial incidents in childhood now look very meaningful, eg. I don't know how many of you did it but we used to play a game where one guy used to roll inside the rim of big tractor tire and rest of kids used to roll it down from sand mounds(ret ke teebe), it used to be Jattu version of roller coaster:-)) In the following poem my fav imagery is

She could never draw an elephant with trunk and tail at proper places
When teacher told her to stand up on bench she bent down to tie shoe-laces

Enjoy,
vinod
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Childhood Memories

Peeling off layers of years over ancient times
I reached down to the core of a strange innocence-
Wrapped as a jewel in childhood memories, thence
I picked up my pen to paint that picture in rhymes.

I thought of sparrow's chirruping in autumn noon,
Of cuckoo's warble in the month of June,
Spring evenings spent by swinging on swings,
Cool eastern wind that first monsoon rain brings,
Sand blowing with wind over undulating sand moulds,
Rainbow rising from behind lead-colored clouds,
Cold clear dews drenching early morn,
Scarlet sky before the sun is born,
First chilly wind of winter that flew
Over corn fields rippled in golden hue,
Clouds of dust floating behind cattle in herds,
Rustic evenings announced by home-returning birds.

I remembered my utter distress the day she wasn't in school,
Later finding her catching fire-flies in plastic bag near the pool,
Her silly giggle showing hollows of missing milk-teeth,
Her treasure of shinning stones and water-melon seeds,
Of our curling inside the rim of worn-out tractor-tire
Then rolling it down from highest mould in the field of brier,
Our stealing eggs from pigeon's nests on rust-eaten ceiling fans,
And stealing mangoes from neighbor’s trees by jumping over fence,
Grandma's endless ancient tales crowded with ghosts,
Then dreaming them behind the gloomy lamp-post,
And further down the infamous corner of the street
Our making sand-palaces where two rushing waters used to meet.
(She could never draw an elephant with trunk and tail at proper places
When teacher told her to stand up on bench she bent down to tie shoe-laces.)

I thought of a serene moment's silent acquiesce
But that moment speaks only when my tongue is hush.
Of many more such things I thought
And in earliest childhood images I sought
For words to write a poem but all in vain
Because words betray me over and over again.
The more I thought more I felt groping in the mist
For that innocence but I ended up with empty fist.

Those things are best to be kept unsaid
Because no word, no metaphor can do them justice.
Ancient innocence of lost lore is long since dead
And to dig the graves of sleeping memories I don't wish.
----------------------------------
 
Awesome composition. It's really a very nice poem!

On a lighter note, here are a few additions from my end:

Grandma says I learned to walk at one and talk at two,
And adds that I had three eyes and almost died by flu.
Dont worry. You will have four eyes by the time you finish the marathon!

At four Mom taught how to tie laces, Papa taught how to see O'clock
It took me a while to learn how to tie laces. Every morning had to literally beg my sisters to help me out and to be on the safer side made sure that it was a double knot as well.

Had crush on a teacher but she said I was a little too small
If you are following news nowadays, it's the other way around. Teachers are the ones having crushes on their students. :eek:

Got fat by eating too much Razma and daily dose of reprimands,
I dont know if you get fat or gas by eating razma.

Until I was sixteen and learned it’s all about hips, lips and finger tips.
Bang on target! Hopefully no more Madhuri cut outs for you.

When I was twenty three, one day my eyes met that of a strange girl-
With diamonds in her shoe-soles, rubies in eyes and teeth like pearls
Dude! Either you are watching too much BET (bling bling) or it's time to schedule an appointment for your eye checkup.
 
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