Every Old age had a Childhood

Old age is like holding grains of sand the harder we try to hold it, slips away more swiftly. 

Only White Hair strands adorned his head as if encroached by snow.

No one to support but hoping to see a ray of love.

Does not need money or any tasty food, But a companion who can sit together and smile at each other.

Amidst the indifferent walls before the tunnel, he built closes in.

But all Old age had once a Childhood and all those grains of sand had Memories of everlasting joy once began from here.

The same Old age would play under Childhood by rotation for hours, with friends who were just as naughty as me.

We would get on our bikes and draw circles around the broad trunks of our favorite tress. We would come back home from school, excited to be a part of this summer treat of delicious mangoes.

Those beauteous tresses from days have dried gone by,
but still, hold such great significance for every Old age.

Filled with joyous, playful, sweet memories from childhood.