Poetry

Delhi 2004

I still remember those days

When I used to chase butterflies
While my mother used to
Boil my favourite sweet potatoes
Those days when
We used to enjoy selling
Piles of old newspapers
And all the empty wine bottles
To the scrap dealer
Whom we used to call a ‘kabadiwala’
For money and sometimes for
Masala papads and potato chips.
I miss the days
When we used to
Secretly enter Uncle Paul’s garden
Start plucking flowers and
Those sour tangerines.
Sometimes I really feel awkward
When I remember how I used to
Steal pencils and sharpeners.
I miss so many things
Those chilly winter mornings
The chirping of petite tree sparrows
The smell of happy childhood
The air of freedom.

                                       ~Sravani Singampalli 

                                          Visakhapatnam, India

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