Photo by Hakan Erenler from Pexels

Meandering through memory lanes
hobbled to a place where my childhood reigned
winded roads and crooked streets
a park across and a store at a few feet – my home

My ancestral home —

Where everything was well placed and everyone had a job
a veranda where grandfather situated himself on his rocking chair
as a patron and a guard of his realm
a courtyard where lots of cooking and conversations took place
whispers laughter and secrets shared
terrace for us children to sneak to and have fun
grandmother calling out to stop the mischief by midnight sun

In the midst of this—

Diwali celebrated with zeal and paraphernalia
family’s heavy chest opened for memorabilia
lanterns selected with care
rangoli decorated with flair
endless trays of delicacies devoured
aarti and firecrackers packed in few hours

If I could turn back wheel —

go from real to reel
I would savor all those lasts, that last Diwali, that last trip, even that last match of cricket
hold on to cousins’ last huddle and laugh a little harder
wallow in grandmother’s comforting soul and smile at grandfather’s last roar

But I fear, now —

These scrawls and images etched in my memory
which kindle copious and fond reverie
can soon fade away
leaving only remnants of those days.

***********

I owe this post to ideas generated from many different sources.

  1. Deepika’s post, a great reminder of our childhood https://wordpress.com/read/blogs/66905190/posts/5978
  2. V.J. writing challenge, the word was KINDLE https://wordpress.com/read/blogs/107230244/posts/10366
  3. Devereaux Frazier’s Tuesday Challenge, the word was Winded Child https://wordpress.com/read/blogs/130149259/posts/12039
  4. Lastly, being close to the holiday of Diwali.

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