The day breaks with the chirps of liberated birds,

And the view of the yellow sun in the eastern sky,

Raising its splendid head and mocking at the captured world,

Time rolls with errands, numerous in hands,

To keep one fit and busy indoors,

But I miss the lost days of,

All those mad rushes in the morning to catch the office on time,

And to reach the school before its gate shuts for the day,

Those busy afternoons in the office or in the bistro,

The opening of lunch boxes or the waiter’s serving the food with finesse in hands,

The evenings whiled away over cups of tea with tittle-tattle brought from out,

The swarming markets with food items open for both foodie and abstemious,

The holidays passed with the presence of maids for hours,

Their tales of misfortune told with their hands on heads,

Of their childhood passed in misery and later their husbands’ treachery,

Of their offspring’s defiance and their perennial wants and predicaments,

I miss the days of festivity with one and all in the family,

And the days spent out in groups, big or small,

But the lost days will revisit, that I believe,

 If we sail the lock-down part on prudence’s ship,

They will revisit with air and sky, clean and clear,

With bushes and trees, more vivacious and green,

With generous nature, haven for both men and animals,

With humans more harmonious in their orbits,

And not as derailed asteroids barging into others’ zones. 

………..Dr. Fathema Begum