Get My Olden Days Poem by Mehta Hasmukh Amathaal

Get my olden days

Wednesday, December 13,2017
4: 44 PM

Get my days olden
They were really golden
I was born topoor family
But I was brought up very happily

We used to play on street with emergency call
For playing with pyramid type wooden structure and the ball
One may hit the structure
And make sure, it is scattered

One or two friends may stay near
And try to restore pyramid with lightning speed
If he is unable to restore
The game may turn sore

Such things rush through my mind
People nearby and in neighbourhood were very kind
Sometimes there used to be quarrel
But later on, we were getting on well

I feel sad
When such type of memory invade
I want to go back to village
Where my child age was spent

I find environment here unfriendly
Everybody is approaching you selfishly
You can't trust even your close friend
They will bring your sun to set in the end

Even though parents worked hard
They had no other word
Either to complain
Or express the pain

I thought of helping
But tender was stopping
I was feeling so bad
And sometimes turning sad