This time when I’m home,
I will rewind to a decade ago,
And redo the life Shillong gave me a chance
to know.
I will wake up early and face up to the
pure morning chill,
And do everything that 10 years ago, was
part of my normal drill.
I will undertake that walk across the green
expanse,
And trek up the hill to hear birds put me
in a trance.
This time when I’m home,
I will reopen my cabinet, and glance
through books on Maths and grammar,
And go visit the school auditorium to
recall my first speech – one of nervous stammer.
I will walk onto the school cricket field
and in the ‘catch it’ wails of those there,
Will recall the last-ball victories and
first-ball ducks lodged in memory somewhere.
This time when I’m home,
I will lighten my burdened spirit in the
Cathedral’s silent hour,
And meet the blind ‘beggar’ outside, who
strums magic on his aged guitar.
This time when I’m home,
I will give my mother my ears,
And let her vent the pent up emotions of
five distant years,
I will do everything to add to her glee,
Be it gardening with her or making her a
cup of warm tea.
This time when I’m home,
I will retire from the maddening race and
pause awhile,
And let life walk with me, instead of
chasing it across the leisurely mile.
