I forget

I often forget 

Promises

That I make to myself

A poem a day-Day 2

Are these

Lines,

Twos and fours

Poetry?

Do they hold in them the beauty

That inhabit them in my head

Or are they just self important

Wanderings of my

Mind

A poem a day

Let the Laendler play

I grew up in a house full of books.Old editions of the Reader's Digest,Enid Blytons,Russian novels..you name it we had it..and I made it my life's mission to add to it.Every birthday I was gifted books.Every day I discovered new books in the rambling bookshelves of my house.I remember desperate summer holidays when I was through with everything on hand and as desperate as a drug addict for something new.I tried very hard to even dig into a nailed crate at my grandmother's house in the vain hope that there might be a book or two in it.

A visit to Madurai had me coming back with numerous classics like Pride and Prejudice,Rebecca etc .And I think it was a combination of these and a lack of touch with reality that I thought that's what life would be like when I grew up.Ballroom music and dancing.A lifelong love for "The Sound of Music " just helped entrench those convictions.

As I grew up,at some stage I realised that my notions were foolish and that such a life could only be lived if one was born at least half a century ago.

But somewhere underlying all the practicality was my dream of magical dances and the Laendler , handsome Captain Von Trapps,love and music.

And now the astounding reality of the world stumps me.There s no time to pause,take a breath and maybe smell a flower if you could find one.Bowed heads,plugged in earphones,instant messaging,anything you want to see or listen to at the tips of your finger...it's like God just granted all the wishes people had at once.You can avoid people ,look down at your phone instead of seeing them..things are very simple.But how happy are we any longer?There is a constant itch to find something newer to watch, something that might just amuse you a little bit.The constant scrolling and the restlessness is literally like a bug you can't shake off.Guaranteed dissatisfaction.

Leave me to my trashy detective novels any day.That itch..the one to have something to read is so tame compared to the Internet itch anyday.What I wouldn't do to go back to my childhood again and live for the pleasure of finding an Enid Blyton omnibus I hadn't read before in the library.

Just let the Laendler play and let me drift off.