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My tale goes back fifty years to my boyhood days,
to a mansion three stories high near the road way,
we boys aged ten, with girls not allowed to play,
our family rules were strict, we better obey!

the girls had their own groups and played away from boys,
so shy, they were home with mums and liked girlish toys!
on way to school, would pass them by, greet them with Hi!
beyond such brief exchanges there were no further ties!

May’s summer scorching heat brought us school holidays,
two months of sheer delight, thanks to Sun’s sizzling rays!
up early morning, time was ours to waste and slay,
played under banian tree covered in dust and clay!

cricket, favourite sport, under shade of the tree,
local priest would referee, if we did not agree!
some days he would even serve snacks with homemade tea!
our playground was near his place from where he could see!

an old granny was spectator from her thatched house,
cheering loud from her chair in white saree and blouse,
lonely she enjoyed our game having lost her spouse,
would reward us with sweets, with milk from her own cows!

decade past went to see where my childhood had been,
tree was gone, granny had died and priest was not seen,
a young lady greeted me so pretty and lean,
first meeting with my future wife, then in her teen!

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