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A Throwback to the Good Times

International Children’s Day celebrated annually on November 20, possibly has no significance for us as we all, (or at least most of us) are adults. However, in schools, this day is cherished as if it arrives in a leap year. As children, this day treated us like we were the kings and queens of the world. The AED 2 chocolate we received from the teachers on the day instantly brightened our mood. The country holding different ceremonies and exhibitions solely for us made us feel special. The banner in the school hallway with ‘Happy Children’s Day’ written brought out our shy smiles. This is for me. I am a part of that broad term ‘children’. Happiness for a child is a definition out of this world, so pure and different.

Image credits: Unsplash.com

This year, the theme for World Children’s Day as declared by UNICEF is – reimagining a better future for every child. This year of course has been different in many aspects, with the pandemic taking over everybody’s schedules and rising anxiety levels. As quoted by UNICEF: “The costs of the pandemic for children are immediate and, if unaddressed, may last a lifetime”. While we deal with this phase of life, we must also remember that these challenging times are extra tough for all the children. In the process of coping up with the loss and stress of dealing with the pandemic, here is a compilation of poems written by our students to take your mind off on how different this Children’s Day is going to be. Beware, these poetries are bound to leave you reminiscing about your own childhood moments.

Image credits: Unsplash.com

As kids, we all had our favourite toy — be it a Barbie doll with stains or the broken remote-control car that we refused to throw away, though our parents said they would get us a new one. This poem will have you remembering just that little toy you cherished in the past.

I still remember that day.

The day I gave my big brown teddy away.

What came to me in the form of a gift,

Is now a remnant which is dearly missed.

For when those tiny tears sprinted across my chubby face,

or when my eyes gleamed with joy,

my teddy would bring me solace.

Big brown teddy.

Deepita Nagdev

LLB Law Year 1

Deepita, aged 5, posing in hill station

As adults, the one thing we all long for is the carefree lifestyle we had when we were young, waking up to run to school with the only worry being that the math teacher might catch us for not completing the homework, coming back home only to throw our bags on the bed and running back down to play with friends before mum catches us. This heart-wrenching poem will make you wish you were back in time.

Oh to be an adult with freedom

Is what I had wished as a child

Adults had their own kingdom

Is what I had seemed as a child

But now I have no reason

For a kingdom much less

Gone is my real freedom

All that is left is nothingness.

The freedom I long for.

Amal Anwar

BEng Computer Systems Engineering Year 2

Amal chilling in her house, aged 2

Who doesn’t sit and remember their childhood best friend once in a while! We all hold on tight to our precious memories from when we were little. The following poem is a sign that you should maybe catch up with your childhood friend soon.

To the friend I made in second grade,
How are you?
You moved away and never thought to call me,
I left you so many emails and messages,
It seems like you don’t check your inbox,
Or you probably ignored them,
It’s easier that way for you,
You’ve somehow found comfort in not acknowledging my existence.


I still think of the times we went for ice cream after school,
Evenings spent in the city park,
Me with my mom’s freshly baked cookies,
You with your mum’s sandwiches,
We used to spend hours feeding pigeons, riding the swings and picking up broken stones.
Everything’s a memory now,
I still remember, but,
you seem to have forgotten them

and me.

A thing of the past.

Mabel Elizabeth Roy

BA Journalism & Communication Year 2

Mabel at her 2nd birthday party in Dubai

Oh, what all would we give up just to go back to the times we cried over not getting to sit on the swing or when we laid on the bare ground because our parents said no to buying our favourite candy. The poem below will make sure you miss the feeling of your bare toes sinking in the sand of the playground you visited often when you were young.

The swings we sat at, the sand we played in,
Nothing has changed.
The green grass and the tall lamp posts,

Nothing has changed.
The big tree and the small pond,
Nothing has changed.
The cotton candy stall and the popcorn machine,
Nothing has changed.
The kids playing and the parents watching,
Nothing has changed.
Except, after all these years,
The swings were now six, and not just two that we always fought for.
The kids playing weren’t my friends and me, having chips and juices.
The parents watching weren’t mine, constantly shouting at me for throwing sand.
There were now big trees along the new cycle track, and the pond also had boats.
There was no baldhead Mr. Bell selling cotton candy and the popcorn machine was now red.
Even if nothing seems to have changed,
everything has changed.

– Transcience.

Aliza Sayed

BSc. Psychology with Marketing Year 2

Aliza enjoying in Mumbai, aged 4

They say we have the best and strongest learning capacity when we are young. If this was my Psychology essay, I would be citing the previous line. A lot of us spent our childhoods in our own home countries, communicating in our language — English barely spoken. And when we moved, the feeling of being detached instantly hit us, maybe at the fact that not everybody speaks the same language. As children finding a home within our language is sometimes hard, but of course, the language of love and the language of youth remains constant with everyone.

I remember the laughter, the warmth and happiness.

Tajikistan was home, I belong to its soils.

But speaking English made me feel estranged.

In Dubai, I hoped to build a community

of all I longed for, and a language

to call my own. Tajik didn’t fit right on

my tongue and as the years went on,

my culture and my language left with it.

But, in moments of panic, joy, melancholy and

exhilaration, Tajik is all I hear. And suddenly, I

remember. The sound of my grandfather speaking Tajik,

so freely, so proudly. The last words I said

to him, khudatona nigoh kuned, look after yourself.

After spending my childhood, confused and lost, I find

that my tongue is part Tajik, part English and fully home.

– Finding my home

Anisa Mukhiddinova

BA Accounting and Finance Year 1

Anisa being in her element, aged 3

The harsh reality of adulting and anything related seems a huge burden sometimes. Often we wish we could become a burrito with the couch and a thick fluffy blanket for the rest of our lives. Some of us even google how to quit life, or maybe it’s just me. But time is fair for everyone. Everybody has to go through childhood, adulthood and even old age. Perhaps, if we could buy magic pills that promise us an eternity of youth, it would be possible. As of now, we stay in the cycle of reminiscing the past, trying to take over the present and bracing for the future. The next poem speaks about dilemma of moving on from past or remaining in the past.

Lost innocence that
I yearn to attain again.
Cans of coke we turned into
our makeshift football.
Pink candies that
carried my heart
to a place called heaven.
But with time,
these things faded
into vague memories.
That’s when I realised
the child in me was drained,
and adulthood had finally taken over me.

– Take me back to those days

Rimsha Fathima

BSc. Psychology with Counselling Skills Year 2

Aged 4, Rimsha being happy over flowers

Memories. The grave reason we are surviving and carrying on with life. The following poem speaks about the rages and desperation of holding on to the past memories and trying to live through them again without regrets.

My childhood memories flash before me.
Sealing my eyes shut,
Drinking in the flashback.
Forgetting the present, embracing the past.

The memories of my young little self,
Playing out in the lush green fields all day long,
Tinting my jeans with brown dirt.
Little specks of chocolate chips,
Muffin crumbs and berry stains
Adore my shirt.

The world runs faster than the tidal waves.
Changing the memories into ancient scripts,
Which I lost years ago, and seem far away.
My childhood scripts lay in Neverland,
Never to be seen again, never to be found.

I close my eyes,
And see the world flash forward,
 Opening them to find a caged girl,
Glaring back at me through the polished metal.

Growing fast, forgetting the past,
The memories of my little self,
Still preserved in me

– Whispers of yesterday

Hridya Pradeep Kumar

BA Graphic Design Year 3

Image credits: Unsplash.com

The final poem speaks about the harsh reality and collision of childhood and adulthood. The deafening contrast between our past and our present. About how the cloud of reality hits us like an oncoming truck. The phase of going from childhood to adulthood leaves most of us with an empty heart that only wants to go back.

A child’s life is so happy, joyous and wondrous because they have

nothing to worry about, they don’t have to go through any mental stress or anything alike

but as time goes on, they start seeing life for what it truly is.

The adolescent stage is the most challenging stage for them,

because they are going through a lot of changes, both body and mind.

And as they go into adult chapter, they face the hard truth,

They face the reality of life and realize that life is not a bed of roses

And it’s not as simple and easy as it was when they were little.

Transition from Childhood to Adulthood

Abaratu Chidera

Media and Art IFP

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