Magic

If there is out somewhere something called 'magic',I really want to breathe it in.Magic that might break the bridges of all my notions towards life.Magic that might swallow all my prejudices in one fell swoop and cleanse my mind-bowl.Magic that might make my heart pure enough to sense things from their real beginnings.

Among all the ages that a man lives,my favourite is the tender,soft,natural,unsophisticated,innocent,fascinating and inspiring sunshine of childhood.I do not remember when did I make an entree and where did I take an arcane exit from my childhood.Things that remain with us are the little games,fantasies,dreams and a toddler's fancied mini-world in the interstices of the heart  just for a realisation that we lived an age some times back.Every generation,every hour,every moment repeats itself to stress the power of living a happy hour.What I did and used to think while I was a little girl is hard to remember even when I bore my head hard into sand.But when I see children around me playing,giggling,sharing their unchallenged secrecy and wisdom,I realise that they are many me from the past in different faces calling me out to open the cache of my memory locked in the gossamer of present.Their smiles are like heavens curve on the godly face,their jokes are like elixir to every pain,their love and care appears to be filled with the experience of a mother. They have the eyes of a thinker and mind of a free soul free to think anything they want.I envy my age of past that has passed pushing me ahead to stand as a big person loaded with some invisible burden.

I want a child and I know that is the only time when I will recreate myself and actually see me getting reborn.The feeling of bearing a child is so blissful cause it gives us a second chance to see life one more time with little changes.O'gosh I think I have been nicely carried away and have come quite far in the flow.That is their beauty,they are the illusionist ready with every feint,every trick to puppetise you and let you enjoy the true joy of being with them.

Once a li'l boy (of course one of my sweetest kindred)wiped my tears with his li'l cold and pink hands and kept his cheeks on mine to swipe out rest of the tears.He  tried to hold my face which was big enough for his tiny hands and I forgot all my reasons when I saw my own reflection in his watery eyes.But before he would cry,I held him close to me and whispered'thank u' into his ears.I dont know how and why but he fleered, gave me a flying kiss and hopped again back to his game.Sometimes it feels magical to find someone with so pragmatic and protective care as if somebody else is behind them.

Everyone has a childhood that is lost,forgotten sometimes or gets fossilised with due course of times or under the situations life creates.It is not false that one man borns as a child,dies as a child.I too have two kids right now to take care of.Two big kids who made me big enough to see them turning into a child again.The same wishes,the same urge of being loved and with the same hopes to have everyone happy around them,our parents are reversing back to their childhood where they deserve and need more care and protection,more happiness and promises,more smiles and happy hours.Love your child,love your parents,love your childhood.