I’m a 10 year old trapped in the body of a 20!

I’m a 10 year old trapped in a body of 20
20 reasons that I still miss school, climbing monkey bars and skipping school, I’m a 10 year old trapped in a body of 20.

21 times daily when I wake, in 22 awkward positions my mind makes me take, thinking for the first time I learnt to skate, the bruises and falls I used to take, I’m a 10 year old trapped in a body of 20.

23 ways when I used to play, different ball games we friends used to invent in 24 minutes before my parents took me on , against the wishes of my own, remembering crying while going back home. I’m a 10 year old trapped in a body of 20.

When solving math was just child’s play, 25 plus 26 was same as 3 multiplied 17,and watching pokemon was all I used to care, I’m a 10 year old trapped in a body of a 20.

27 different sketches I made, using crayons and pastel colours my mother let me purchase, that gave me a smile which nothing could ever take, I’m a 10 year old trapped in a body of 20.

Enough of no.s I say, remembering the sweater my grandmother used to make, for me, ohh yess, for me, which was better than any brand name you could take, I am a 10 year old boy, trapped in a body of a 20.

A single water gun, a dozen water balloons and your face was all I needed to paint my favourite picture, Holi was more like an excuse to run after you, with eggshells and grease marks all over my palms.

28 mysterious expressions, 29 incomplete conversations and 30 precious moments it took me to realize that I was in love with her, for whom I can act like a mime for all my life, for her to smile. For whom 31 letters I could write using 32 tissue papers, as the last one carried a kiss so fine, like she was honey to my beehive.

33 was the no. I dreaded, it used to mark a person who had failed to pass a subject, I wonder if a single addition of a number to someone’s life could define him as a successful one, odd no.s are odd for a reason I think.

I say let’s talk about the number 69, 23 multiplied 3, it takes two to tango we know, as to all the smirks in my biology class, the shows not over until you blow.

6 strings, 2 chords, 1 pick and a long lost memory was all it took me to write my first song, melodious it was, speechless it left her, let’s kiss she said, and so we did.