Memories Of Village Life

Now a city dweller, but born in a village,

Missing in my life those old happy days.

About my village life, so many stories to tell,

Every morning used to bath at the tubewell.

Used to chew sugarcane, tasted so sweet,

Stealing mangoes from a garden and having a treat.

A bowl of butter with parantha in the breakfast,

Gulping a glass of lassi was a very big task.

A big piece of jaggery was our sweet after every meal,

If denied by mom, we had to steal.

Auntie on father side, calling her chachi,

Mother’s sister greeted as ‘’namaste maasi’’.

Sprinkling water on the roof to beat the heat,

Going to sleep after dadi’s story treats.

Counting stars in the night was a daily routine,

Twinkling stars and full moon, I miss this scene.

Village life was so simple and full of fun,

The tension of study and homework, there was none.

During a festival, for brand new clothes we always wished,

And a cultural program, we never missed.

Love and harmony was our culture and mission,

Helping each other was our village tradition.