Grandma’s Diary

a poem by Urmila Mahajan

I used to believe the moon up high
And not the clouds sailed through the sky.
And long fingers of shimmering moonbeams
Stole down from a land of dreams.

When I outgrew my lacy dress
I kept it aside I must confess
For I thought as it was shrinking fast
It would do for my favourite doll at last.

Death or misfortune couldn’t shake me
They were remote and mythical definitely
Which sometimes smote others so far away
It was useless to dwell on them anyway.

The world in my view (which was incomplete)
Stretched up to the sign at the end of the street.
The holes in my knowledge were not distressing
I felt sure in time I’d know everything.

I grew older not wiser as the years passed by
Taking my childhood in the wink of an eye
Reality struck with an unfeeling heart
Pierced my innocence like a poisoned dart.

Bitter lessons taught me how thoroughly wrong
And naïve I had been all along
Tossing in a turbulent sea of doubts
I tried my best to iron them out.

Good intentions were simply not enough
Adolescence was, will always be tough
I changed colours like a chameleon gone wild
Alternating in manner from adult to child.

Finding my feet took amazingly long
The adolescent dose had been too strong
Weather-beaten I emerged at last
Ready to drop my torrential past.

To face the sunrise with hopes anew
Lost time to make up and plenty to do
A plateau of sorts, a more settled stage
A respectable bridge between youth and age.

Yet the heart that beats within my chest
Drums a tune that drowns out all the rest-
The same tune I heard clear and true
Right from the cradle all my life through.

Even when I thought the pale moonbeams
Were manufactured in a land of dreams.
I’m still the same though I’m forced to state
Time has dimmed my vision, slowed my gait.

Youth may have been rich in compensation
Fraught with heady inspiration
Yet my spirit can still soar up high
To meet the moon in the magical sky.

There’s comfort in life at every turn
Yours to take or yours to spurn
The last drops of honey in the jar
Are the sweetest, purest ones by far.