A toddlers view of the world!

It started out to be a lazy day. I woke up late, wandered around, sipped on tea, read the papers and listened to some music. The urge to figure the technicalities of my key board pushed me out of this mode and off I went looking for the manual. Funnily the keyboard was forgotten, the laziness sunk in again and I found myself in front of a pile of old papers. Reluctantly I started to open it and read. It was a surprising, shocking, revealing afternoon. "There is treasure everywhere!" says Calvin! Indeed! I found sheets of paper preciously scribbled with puerile illusions/thoughts and imprints. Things I have written over the years and managed to salvage. The beauty lies in how some were folded like they lived in pockets of a teenager, some nicely filed like they meant something special to a tiny toddler and some scribbled with scratches telling me how difficult it was for a high school kid to think, create and work without spell checks!

I decided to bring back to life a few of those creations! Filing them on my blog as a memory, an archive that I might not lose as easily as paper with blurred ink and pencil!

A Real man and a real friend

If you help at times of need

And always do good deeds

At times even if you give them your heed

Then you are a real friend.

If you always work for your feed

And also reap your self grown seeds

Also if you have the right way to lead

Then you are a real man

- Meeta Gangrade (Class III)

Gandhiji

Truth is the right way

Which has to be followed everyday

Violence is nothing, but shatters everything

These were the words of his.

He fought for our rights

But violence was never in sight

HE freed his motherland

Which was by a great non-violent fight.

-Meeta Gangrade (Class IV)

The uncared child

This poem is about a child who is upset with life and is not happy with the world. He sits depressed and thinks.

I sat one morn

And wondered why I was born?

To face an evil world

Where there was no straight road.

My parents never cared for me

They always seemed a scare to me

I cursed god all day

But was to my dismay.

--Meeta Gangrade (Class IV)

The Court

In black and white

All stand tight

Silence in the room

And all are in sight

Then comes the judge

And then a bang-bang

A queer looking man

Who should be hanged

Arguments start

The judge listens keenly too

Each one tries to say his part

And the crowd is waiting for a clue.

Finally the judge

Says a word or two

People leave the courtroom

Silently wearing their nice little shoes.

- Meeta Gangrade (Class III)
** I remember I only spoke in English. Had learned a few hard words and used to try hard to use them in my sentences. 

A friend

Tooth are rooted

On your base that is suited ,

Only for my prideful hands.

We take you for granted

As if, you are unwanted

But you are the cause of my plight,

I always greet you with delight.

For you also decide my fate

As you help me impress all my mates.

You also decide the state

Of my eager hair, for you they do await.

You just rumble past my hair

And set them back to place a where

They look cool neat and fair

Oh comb! My friend, I need you everywhere!

- Meeta Gangrade (Class IV)

** Clearly I was obsessed with rhymes, impressions and hair do's!

Victory

There was a cliff, broken withered and sleek!

My aim- to reach its summit, its peak.

I started out afresh, with nothing more than a walking stick.

But at every juncture, I wanted more and I became quick.

The path broken, the peak out of sight...(gosh)!

I raised my will and mustered all my might.

I began again, tired at times, I would stop

But I never kept out of sight, my dream- The top.

And I would again want to get there and win

But all the while hoping my "victory" wasn't a whim.

I crawled, I ran, I waded, I slid and fell.

I went through torment, bliss and hell.

But in each minute lived in my adventure

I know just one thing that was true

Despite all this troubled stature

"Oh Victory"- I was getting closer and closer to you!

- Meeta Gangrade (Class VII)