Imagine, in another world,
Where you start out old,
Bones and joints ache,
The teeth continue to shake,
And a walking stick is the need of the hour,
Whites covering your wrinkled head,
And clothing is all about loose comfort.
As you walk further,
The walk turns swifter,
Taste buds tingle with pleasure at the sight of food,
White slowly turns grey black,
And clothes get brighter.
The more you walk,
The more frenetic the pace,
Food means only junk and clothing, tighter is better,
Then comes an unexpected phase,
Where you turn back to school,
Enjoying the simple pleasures,
Of sun, sand, mud and the sea,
With some books and studies strewn in between.
But the best is yet to come,
When curled you lie, in your mother’s tum,
Feeling with your senses,
The sights and the sounds.
If only life had this rewind button,
When the more time you spent,
The younger you grew,
Alas! It remains wishful thinking,
Life continues to move in fast forward,
Try as we might,
Never does it rewind.
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