Back And Forth In My Mind Poem by Eric Zinbabora Batung

Sitting up in my bed one of those bright morning days
Enjoying the warm caresses of the morning sun's rays
The pressures of previous days sneaked into my sail
Then within my skull, I felt a mighty oceanic wave
Which left me thinking and thinking all the way.

Suddenly, the chaos within my skull yield to the touch of a single thought:
Of what use is a trusty neighbour
If we cannot water down our storms together in times like this
By splitting our cola of thoughts together as did our forefathers.
Biting off piece after piece they came to the truth
Of the sweetness within the bitterness of their brains.

So I come knocking at the door of your skull,
Trusting that you will open up.
Now tell me.
Why did we stop being children?
Why didn't we stop growing up
When we noticed that we were growing bigger than the box of childhood?
Childhood was our perfect zone of comfort.

We should have stopped eating or drinking anything that made us grow,
Or stopped doing the things that made us feel we were no longer children.
We should have stopped hurrying up to leave our fathers' houses to be on our own,
To make our own decisions, go where we will and do what we please.
Because growing up and being on our own means paying the bills,
Making the big decisions, taking all the risks, looking after others,
Thinking for the younger ones and being responsible for their mistakes.
Here we are now, all grown up.
Spending sleepless nights thinking and thinking about how to make things work out well.

While doing all of this thinking,
I took a glance at my three-year-old TOURESONG and her little brother PEGIMWINI;
Beaming with smiles as they slept soundly in peace
Without any of the cares of adulthood.

Just then, my face lighted up with a broad smile and I could not but admit;
It is not that bad after all.
At least these little ones are our own celestial blessings from the creator of all things.
They are the products of some of the little late-night pleasures of adulthood.
The little bright stars of hope and joy in the thickest darkness of all the pressure,
The anxiety, trials, tribulations and tortious struggles of this life.

These little ones are indeed our own nostalgia that takes us back to the road of memory.
To the mountain peak of history in our minds' eyes.
Where we can see clearly with some speckle of clairvoyance;
Our once beautiful childhood when we cared little about life and its worries.
Those times of our lives when we felt our parents were the richest.
That our mothers' soups were the tastiest.
And that our fathers were the strongest in the neighbourhood.
We were so protected that the harsh realities of life were lost on us.
Our parents shielded us from those realities of life and kept their struggles to themselves.

In a moment, I was already saying to myself, "comeback yesterday".
Take me on the wings of time and fly me back to the late 90s,
Deep into the bright early 80s, yes!
And land me safely on my mother's knees once again, just like little PEGIMWINI.
Let her rock me and sing me lullabies, sweet-soothing lullabies.
Let me feel the softness of her lips bathe me with kisses,
So I can grow again out of her arms onto the floor.
Where I can crawl on all four and crush those poor little insects and giggle at their demise.

That my wide little eyes will be filled with amazement at the finery of creation,
Marvel at the colourful mosaic of nature's splendour
And everything that I could not see in the darkness of my mother's womb.
That I can run around again at age three just like my sweet TOURESONG.
Throw things about, mess up the courtyard, pull down anything that yields to my tiny muscles.
Report everything that happened in their absence to Daddy and Mommy
The moment the door opens, and say it all as it is. Only the truth, nothing but the truth.

That I can grow up a little more and play all the games invented by childhood ingenuity.
Make all the models of cars and other machines with empty milk tins and beverage cans.
Explore all the childhood artistry with clay.
Do all the things that we once did, all over again,
And just be free and happy without any of the apprehensions of adulthood

That once again at age ten or twelve I can savour the anticipated pleasures of growing up.
To be like my big brothers and sisters who got to hang out with their friends
And did all the big boys and big girls stuff.
Then suddenly I find myself there, only to realise that it was all mirage.
Ahhhh! What an illusion! I'll say, after realising that it took risk
to do all the big boys and girls stuff because it had to be done on the blind side of my parents.

Then immediately I will want to finally grow up quickly
So that I can be on my own and take charge of my own affairs
And not have to take permission from anyone to do anything.

Then before I know it, I'll be back to where I am.
This very time and place, thinking.