7/26/09

What happened to those days?

What happened to those days?
When worries were scarce like rain in the desert,
Where we lived free like butterflies,
free from worries,
Life was fun,
studies were the only concern.

School life was bliss with my group of friends,
When I remember those days,
Those beautiful dusty class benches,
Which contained immortal words carved by us, immoral kids.

Life was as bright as sunshine,
Today the weather looks bleak,
Lots of responsibilities and loads of work,
As I carry on monotonously like a jerk.

What happened to those beautiful moments?
What happened to those awesome cricket matches,
Where our exam pads became cricket bats
And shot plastic balls out of the park.

My dear friend, do you remember the day,
When we all went to the beach,
Gazed out those beautiful girls who passed by,
We were so free then, like birds in the sky.

But today, we find ourselves chained to our worlds,
Where the computer boxes become our only friends,
Where our big bosses care only about business trends,
Life which was once sweet as honey, now alas, it revolves only around money.


Is that all, is that we are worth for?
To work like dogs and sleep like pigs!
Come to work at day and go home at night,
So busy to even recognize a past friend at first sight.

Life has become routine and I have become a machine,
One that has no life of its own,
Once that walks like a zombie, lives like a robot,
And one that can only ponder and say, “What ever happened to those beautiful days”.

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3 Comments:

At 11:20 AM, Blogger aparna said...

Hi Ashwin,

Your poem is so good. When I read, it transported to me to the past when I was carefree and was enjoying myself with my group of friends. It is nicely worded.

I think you can add another notch to your creative profile!!!!! :)

Aparna

 
At 6:04 PM, Blogger mahesh said...

The poem was smashing. It is the bitter truth of today's Faustian Corporate Culture.

There are roles and duties.
What we are doing now is our moral role of earning "bread and butter" for the family. It is difficult to enjoy what we do for a living.

Very few of us are actually lucky enough to enjoy their work-roles. The satisfied looks and smiles are fake in many cases.

That which cannot be cured has to be endured.

 
At 5:26 PM, Blogger Pooja Nair said...

wow...cool one :) wish i cud write poems like this one :)

 

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