A yesterday , A today .
As toddlers, pencils and eraser were identities of satisfaction and love . Expectations were limited upto hours of play and blissful sleep . Tears rolled down the skin when we suffered losses of nibs and weak sharpner’s . Bottles sticked to neck and boxes of lunch were more surprising than a lottery triumph . Bonds of ultimate loyalty and the natural habitat of teasing were like stains down the pure soul . A cry of pain No smiles in vain A pleasure with all These were our tiny tales While we were small . Change is the only constant , they say . Pencils to pens to markers, Writing alphabets on the four lined sheets To using pens for the last breath for signing of property paper, Crying out of pain to hiding the same Being loyal to the world , to being disloyal to the morning alarms as well And a million other tools turned upside down from then to now . Where are we ? Ask yourself , knock your heads off for once and use your cause of existence, your heart once . Answe...