By Rishabh Barmecha
You reminded of my home,
much lovely than Paris,
more beautiful than Rome...
when from office, papa came late,
It's by chance or my good fate.
where keys of the car are always on refrigerator,
with its tank full, that's always better.
loved the occasion when kitchen was full of sweets,
in my room, music roaring on high beats.
in frustration when mumma shouts,
forced me to move out.
with friends all around,
excitement, thrill and happiness surround,
car moving on broad street,
there's only accelerator under my feet.
visiting to places where all sadness fade,
remember the false excuses, to papa, I made.
a place where life was so easy,
younger brother's holiday homework,
always kept me busy.
A place where grandma and grandpa always blesses,
someone else was always there to take care of my dresses.
A place where I got time to play outdoor,
even after using orkut, facebook and twitter.
where old religious rituals never bored,
and scolding from elders felt much sweeter.
on any auspicious occasion,
every second, in the span of time,
I really miss my home,
much lovely than Paris,
more beautiful than Rome...
