Once in my childhood
I found a ring of Gold,
Unaware I was, it was
Not known to me,
What gold is!
While returning from
Market to home,
With my grand mom, .
She was ahead of me
And I was behind
Like a satellite, followed her.
It was my habit(still persists) to play
With the needle like things,
Like stick, broomstick,
That can be broken easily
Always I was busy and I
Couldn’t sit peacefully or
Lay asleep, needed some work
To engage myself and my mind
I was walking and slowly
Breaking the ring and throwing
The tiny part of the gold,
On the road.
Into the realm of own world
I lagged behind few steps
And then suddenly I found
Grand mom stood
In front of me and said,
Hey what are you doing?
Show me, I shown her
Oh! You a fool, Alam
It is gold! “The precious metal”.
Gold, this is the Gold and
You have wasted almost half.
This is old story that happened to me
When, I was six year old, unknown to Gold.
Today sitting on the balcony, I was watching
Garbage lifter, everything he was lifting,
He was watching beautifully to find something.
I went on that period and seen
My grand mom who died in 1984
She is going back to home
With me and I am throwing Gold
I am not crying but laughing
Whenever I am writing
I find Grand mom
Guiding and Shouting
Still I am throwing Gold
Whatever I have, belongs to other
I am enjoying, world is enjoying
What do I need!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Beautiful and golden memories of grand mother in your poem...Really childhood days are wonderful with memories... Loved reading it.