“Times are changing,” you inform me.
I hear you. At 15, it is like
the rebellion starting without its
“fading ideals” of friends, doors
that don’t agree to stand open for you!
At 15, it is the first summer marked
for memory scrapbook.
A slew of calls from friends on holiday,
hairstyles that last a week – when they last
and a gawky stretched human frame unfit
for home décor!
There’s more, more causes for starting movements,
Facebook does not have “enough reach”,
restless twittering of happy ideas that
“can change the world” and oh,
don’t forget, the earth
spins too slowly to keep up!
I see your righteous bewilderment
and those surprised
circles your fingers trace furiously
in the air. “Yes, 15 is the first
heady challenge.” I sagely submit!
“But,” I hurriedly add, “it passes.
and the earth adjusts its spin to keep
pace with revolutions – yours.”
“The stars will chart your course
to a forgotten friend when Facebook
falters, and one door will stay open
only for you, especially for you.”
Evening slips into the warm quilt
of a winter’s night. The displaced molecules
are reluctant to return
to their old places.
A door closes, it’s a firm click.
Childhood locked away.
“Summer will return,” I insist.
I’m not sure you are listening!
Sketch by Rashmi Jauhari.