Maine tujhmein kya dekha thha
Aankhein bhi aankhon jaisi tthin
Maatha bhii maatha jaisa ttha
jis mitti pe naaz ttha tujhko
main bhi ussi mitti ka banaa thaa
This is a poem my father taught me to recite when I could hardly enunciate words clearly.I was fascinated by the sound of words perhaps.A little courtyard, a bit of the blue sky, a handful of cool breeze and an ocean of bliss. And I would reach out to the bubbles that floated in the sky and put them in his lap.Today I realize they were specks in my own eyes.The best part of childhood is that you see things far away,high up .and watch them come closer to.Sometimes you get to cocoon them in your palms. As adults we tend to see things in darkness.The ocean leaves traces of salt.