a poem by Christuraj Alex

Though a playground is for fun and frolic
I fear the playground of my childhood
It’s of our school though not huge in area
Well furnished with all around green trees
It’s during intervals that we ran there
Like monkeys climbing the trees all at once
Our game was catching others only on trees
And get ourselves escaping from their catch
We played falling, rising, climbing, crawling
Catching as many of us, as we safely escape

It’s during such a thrilling wild game
It was almost the end of the term there
Feeling, perhaps, the fear of parting
We played it more fervently again, again
And, lo, such a wonderful gem of our friends
Got electrocuted holding a wire above by fault
He fell just like a dead monkey from heaven
As though burnt alive and no doctor needs
Then the crying and wailing and weeping
All with heavy at hearts the school departing…

* * * * *

All I had asked the lord thereafter on that ground was
Why don’t you give us our friend back to play?