Of past

Of those times

When unicorns were alive

In the narration;

When the rumbling of sky meant war

Between god and devils;

When collection of local smoke butts

Entertained the innocence of timely

Thirst for games,

I fall prey to

 In thoughts,

In memories

As a throwback existence leap

Through the sight of my sensitive eyes.

Of those times,

When a bulk of lower notes

Meant the richness in value;

When mum would request for a meal

And order for washing hands;

When father would give old five Ngultrum

And caution for efficient use;

When hide and seek between

Little brother and me

Made our days,

I often go nostalgic

As flashbacks flash in me

As I feel the differences now.