Tuesday, September 25, 2007

Ashes Again

I made a small wooden toy.
It took me years to make it.
I’d play with it, I’d love it…
I’d caress it ..
I thought.
I thought , I’d treasure it…
Till the day I grew up.
So that, someday, I
Could show the world,
How much I loved it.
I wanted to show the world,
That I loved it enough,
Not to replace it with some plastic toy.
But one day, it left me.
It stood inside a hard box,
Wrapped with some colored paper.
For the first time, I did not,
But it replaced me.
It replaced me for a big boy,
Who’d keep it in a showcase.
Who would not play with it.
Who would not destroy it.
Who would let it stay as it was.
I wish I had the chance to do the same too.
I burnt the remaining wood, I had.
Took the ash in my hand and wondered.
It would have someday left me, either this way,
Or the other.
I have put that ash in a bottle, and stirred in some water.
I play with this bottle now.
It’s no more the wooden toy now.
It’s the bottle I play with.
Nobody wants to take it away.
It is all mine.
It reminds me of the toy I made,
But doesn’t let me go back to it.
My bottle of ash and water,
Cannot be ashes again.



Aamil said...

Thanks for reading my blog and commenting
I too read your poem [though I just found one]
I somehow don't understand what happens to that toy...but I guess some things are better not understood

thanks and good luck to you too

Raj said...

U know this comparison is well drawn but the hint of pessimism it carries sways it a bit towards negetive side but still its emotionally touching.