6:49 am

6:49 am in my childhood bedroom
I pushed back the blankets
and climbed out of bed
barely looking for a reason or excuse
to say “just 5 more mins please”

Walls filled with paintings
From acrylic to poster,
Cupboards full of toys
With names from A to Z
Bags packed the night before
to perfectly adhere to the timetable,
table stacked with a neat pile
of books to study and books studied,
Ticks on my whiteboard
Against all the 4 homework submissions,
The sight before my eyes
Was all the motivation I needed
To gear up for another day
Of math classes and origami projects.

Today,
The walls of the room are lined
With medals from Olympiads
And trophies from Debates;
The signs of success
My childhood bedroom’s wall longed
And yet it lacks the joy and charm
those messy water colour strewn papers
radiated with ease.

Cupboards are wiped clean of toys
Stacked from end to end with textbooks;
A sign of growing up you’d say?
Studying through nights
burning the midnight oil,
gearing up for the fabulous career
childhood me always dreamt of,
And yet they lack that instant ability
to bring a smile onto my face,
something those toys and board games
managed to do with no effort.

And as the heart yearns and misses
the blissful innocence
in my childhood bedroom,
My clock strikes 6:49 am
and I throw the blanket aside;
Only this time it is in despair
as I attempt to snooze my insistent alarm,
and find my way back
to the comfort of those blissful
6:49 am childhood mornings.