THIS USED TO BE MY PLAYGROUND

It was a neglected piece of land. Never had a roller flattened it out. Never a fresh layer of soil used to replenish it. Grass grew freely, where we didn’t trample on it. At other places a combination of hay and thorny shrubs conspired to encroach on what was our space.

We played on it during the 30 min respite that we used to call our PT period. A minuscule oasis in the drudgery of another day at school. We played what we could . If there was a spare ball we would kick it around. If there wasn’t one we would simply run around trying to catch one another . We improvised. We made do. We had fun. We made those 30 minutes count.

By the time we were done playing, we would have our shirts dripping with sweat. Going back to class and switching into the real world of math and physics and history was anti climatic, but that was the glorious age when consequences didn’t matter. And as we settled into our designated benches, some of us gloated over the victories of the past half hour and others swore revenge the next time. But both the victor and vanquished would every now and then let their gaze wander to the promised land, the playground.

I stand on the same ground today waiting for my wife to finish her shopping. What was a neglected , unkempt and yet. a beautiful piece of the planet has morphed into the monstrosity of a shopping center. Gone is the grass, the mud, they hay and the thorny bushes. In their place stands a concrete and glass structure full of shops and offices. Some one sold out it seems.

The wait is long and I try and imagine where our goal posts ( all of two bricks each, kept on opposite sides of the playground ) would have been. I remember my friends, the strong runners and the others who did all that they could do to avoid injury. I try and place the spot where I fell and bruised myself.

The spot has disappeared and the bruises a long while ago. Time heals they say. I look at the shopping centre and I think and then Time inflicts new wounds.