Chunks From The Childhood Era Poem by Aadil Hingorjo

Vanishing years tour me to the same tones
I'm made return to the same batch
Underneath are the same pale leaves
The same summer with ancient aroma is on
The atmosphere around me is empty
It's pindrop silence
Colors of the peaceful rustic life are fading
Edges crumble down
And the ages remind the same hour
Where the old mates and I used to riffle around
Memories arrest me all of sudden
August-15 accident couldn't do away the tales
It couldn't wipe away the wavy days
Pictures of a boy with dust stained clothes
Tape ball in his hands, and bat to open up
Not good at field, stubborn enough to bat first
Cricket cells retain again to the mindly galleries
The car that drove me to the school
and Baba who still smiles with same generosity
And the walkers by the left side of the road
Staring at their fast steps
Silently I exchange the unexpressed intentions
Trying to remember their tribes
Repeating the test stuff at some side of head
Talking with quicker jerks
Smelling the alien music of Akcent Band
Using fried vocab to tempt the teachers
The then teachers with hearts in their heads
Evening tuitions and the Isha at village mosque
Witr rakaats with Dua e Kunoot,
and the Aayats of the first soorah of 26 parah
After every Farz namaz,
Sliding fingers upon my eyes
In the Friday eve, the Durood recitation
Smiling to the new born Cresent
Duas on boyish lips, ah all that retraces me
Noticing the kids while playing
Eids with special touch
And the death ceremonies as chilly events
And teasing the tv trained boys
Commenting over the Musharaf era
With a feel as if politics peeps in my veins
Running off in case the Uncles caught me
For going out with forbidden boys
Who shared the same world
Sullen, serious men of the village
Men with cruel expressions
Men with fabricated foreheads
Reading out in the advancing night
Elbows on chair, and the face between knees
Biting the orange biscuits
After them the green bubbles
And stoning the mad dog with enthusiasm
Courage in hands and courage in feet
Heading off to the sandy dunes
Curiosity to read the adult literature
With words having provoking pills
And the expressions arousing the lower parts
Allowing the self to walk the banned lanes
That majestic monument to the olden days rise
Inched into the childhood stretches
Echoes of the initial life do resonate inside
Eyes to the nostalgic noises smile profoundly
With softer and louder tones
Sometimes the natural accents meet this way
Enclosing that spell I return back to now
Now that's deeply branched in yesterday's then!