Poignant Recollections
By The Inmates Of The
House.
It
has been
precious thirty years
Since
our
mother reached Heavenly
Abode.
The ancestral palatial house,
our
home, Resting on pillars, as she
Rested on
her Deity, protecting symbol
a
monumental rock of our
stay.
During
our
yearly regular visits,
Memory
revitalised by poignancy,
Concomitant
to our
unfading moments
Of
life
and strife and shift
and stay.
Rills
of
winding staircase echo
A
tune of past ,dipped in melody sad.
Copper
utensils, thin filmy soot on
the wall ,
arranged
vessels
and cupboards,
Coffee
mugs
in multiples,
For
all of us rightfully
Demanded
cups
of coffee
In
the
fresh morn and noon.
A
discarded mobile , crave for use,
Picked
and
cared by her, amidst books
and
publications ; messages and numbers
in languished state. Verses and
worshipful
Muses,
her language Life’s immediacy.
Her
voices, vision, her recordation
All
her language, we still speak and
voice.
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