I remember being surrounded by those kids...
who had that shine of future in their eyes...
The eyes which looked like leaves holding raindrops...
They had a vibe of progress...
Their words had some unrealistic terms...
I never understood...and may be I still do not...
I remember how hard I tried to fit in...
among those futuristic kids...
But how could I?
When my eyes always carried a flame of past in them...
The past I would never want to leave behind...
There is always something in that basket...
It holds for me...something new...
I never think about me growing old...
I think the world would end by then...
But this past...
feels like that lost treasure in sand...
The mysteries of life have been solved...
at the stations of past...
where answers have waited for me...
to pick them up...
I have a past...a precious past...
There is something I can never leave behind.