womb to Childhod to womb

Dinesh Kinger

As a child

I remember stepping on thoughts

when only my head knew how to walk

I did not see the lines

the names, the addresses

nor the four corners

of round earth

the world was one big oatmeal

my mind could devour

I couldn’t distinguish

the beautiful from the ugly

everything was beautiful except the concept of it

you didn’t have to try too hard to crack me up

or to put me in an awe

everyone was a comedian, a magician

and me the best audience 

But by the time I learned to speak to world

I had unlearned to see the world

I left my mother’s healthy womb

for childhood

and then to a unhealthy womb of society

that breastfed me with dogmas

until I no longer needed

my imagination

and became completely capable of

not thinking on my own and

paying the bills

in exchange of a happy meal

that gave me a mind poisoning

and my childhood suffered

the only type of death

that everyone alive rested in peace with

but me.


6 comments

  • Your poem captures the angst of realising that being an adult is definitely not so sugary as we thought it would be.
    A thought provoking piece!

    Vedika Paliwal
  • A great reflection of reality! Good work!

    Dishant Vermani
  • Thank you Kirtan, you know where to find me!

    Dinesh Kinger
  • Thank you so much Shalija.

    Dinesh Kinger
  • I have to look this guy up. Great job!!

    Kirtan
  • Beautifully thought and meticulously penned down. The dark side of growing up and the pain we all experience has been captured by the Poet.

    Shalija Rath

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