Scents Of Childhood..

I have two versions of this poem..The difference between the versions lies in the ending..One ending has been written by  me, the other is by my english teacher, Ms. Ashima Katthuria, without whose guidance these poems would not have come onto paper, and yes ofcourse the great Internet...
Here it is...



Snaking through the by-lanes of time,                                                  
I was thrown back in the past tense.
When the mind was a free leeway, sans any knots
Pre-occupied with orange flavoured candies and innocence.
When the eyes widened up at every incognito
Everything that blinged,
Shutting dowing hearing the lullabies
That mother used to sing.

Questions multifarious put up to known folks
Snakes and ladders and ant elephant jokes
Scrapped knees, bruised elbows and stained cheeks
When the hills on the lakeside were the only known peaks
When we were the kings and the neighbourhood park our territory
Fighting battles of stone paper and scissor creating no history

When happiness came wrapped in cocoa squares,
Bliss was synonymous to cotton candies at fairs
When milk was depression and toys possessions
When giggly escapades were an all-time obsession

This is my teacher's version of the end


When dolls made us fight days over days
Winning hide and seek was every victor's ace
That tingle of childhood now is once again sprouting
I see lovely greens around my surroundings
Beneath the heavy books
I hear a soft beat
This beckons me to come out and breathe
Now the rainbow and colours are more defined
For a little knowledge has made it more magnified
How great is childhood
And the innocence in its soul
Do listen to its delicate knock
It gives it everyone for sure


And here is my version of the end.....

Now those green lawns call me
And so do the fairs
My life wishes to rejuvenate
In the cool air....
I remember the hush and noise in the street.
Running after kites, life was upbeat.
The rain falls outside my room's window pane,
On the other side is a happy me dancing in the lane.
Splashing in the mudpools are my feet.
The heavens cry in joy, melting the summer heat.
The world varnished bright, by the downpour.
The rain seeping deep inside my heart's core
I dance, I hop, I sing around,
Remembering the golden days my heart pounds.
The beautiful brush-strokes in my life's colour-book
Ethereal and seraphic are the scents of childhood...