I strain hard, trying to recollect childhood friendships and games. A faded memory seems to be my only surviving relic from a bygone age.
I strain hard, trying to recollect childhood friendships and games. A faded memory seems to be my only surviving relic from a bygone age.
Written for my kids – on international father’s day!
Something written impromptu; maybe I hear too many unheard cries of late? This is written for those kids whose childhood has been cut short – perhaps by war, calamity or acts of terror.
They were not meant to be headline news in negative sense. Maybe if we were tolerant enough, we might have seen another flower bloom
A short post about some feelings I happened to experience during a recent trip to the place where I spent my childhood days.
A trackback on the child in me!