When I Was a Boy

Boyhood was a one-night stand, So brief and unforgettable, Full of dreams, Sweet —like a rooftop party, Wild and loud, When the world several feet below, Full of envy, shouted at us, “Come down quickly! Quick!” Boyhood charmed me and Did not harm me It was a different time, A different boy-game All was different Including the falsehood of the time Fibs were crammed with the essence of joy. Mawkish, they strengthened the walls of Defence, by pulse or by slush — One gave way for the other to flourish. And I saw things the way they truly were, Either red or white; Nothing like reddish-white Or whitish-red. Just red or white. Plain. Pure and simple. I didn’t mix colours except when I was painting With brush and colours on drawing paper White with the innocence of dawn Watercolour streamed with tears Genuinely shed with common bliss. Our loudest poem was Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star I’ve never ceased to wonder how they twinkled In the dull eyes of dinosaurs! And there was Humpty Dumpty, Our dear friend. Santa or Father Christmas, Called and addressed according to your own side of The pond, possessed the redness that charmed us And the whiteness that froze us with ecstasy And with the dynamism of Sunday school songs Oh, his beard! Mammatus clouds so full and rolling! The outlines of trees back then resembled the clusters of Overgrown clouds laughing their senses off Above us foolish little masquerades A scene of a flowering act. With our eyes we saw it all Just like the serial films we saw — They all made sense —from Gunsmoke to Bonanza and Hawaii-50 We saw all with grey, tiny eyes on grainy television Screens, elevated boxes of palatial balls Those days smelled differently — With the fragrance of natural love And the beats of honourable music And we scribbled figures of maths on Each other’s back, symbols of agricultural tools. Oh, the arrangements of the planets, Beginning with Earth, Our darling Earth, Since charity must commence at home. Politics was far from us So was double entendre . . . A one-off incident, Boyhood is a museum — You take nothing with you while Exiting it. I drive back to it only on the reference gear.