Down the lane, while moving through the tunnel..
Saw them playing, reminds me of those journal..
That first story telling on stage, parents in the crew..
gazing at me, supporting me for the new.
Those ringing of phones, conveying through neighbours..
Landlines were costly, but bonds were swith.
Those covering of books with scissors, tapes and comely stickers..
Fascinated us the ones which had last page scribbles.
Those Walkman, cassettes and earplugs can’t ever beat..
Any gadget and playlists with the same connect.
Those books were the hiding place of dried rose and letters..
Will kindle and WhatsApp replace them ever.
Yeah! Down the lane moving into the tunnel, I remembered my memories of 90s in a journal.
-shraddha!!











I wasn’t an English major, but I never had an issue with stringing words together and making a coherent, easy to read sentence. I know most of the rules, but I also know those rules are meant to be broken, especially if you are writing fiction.