My wooded house
Once made of mud walls
With a tiles covered roof
Supported by woods and bamboos,
Where the sun light used to sneak in
In the morning like a stealth cat
When horizon was turnig bright,
And visited every nook and cornor of the house
Following grandma's slow,measured steps
And hid silently
Behind the western outermost wall
As the evening knocked at the gate,
The burning lanterns in the courtyard
Matched with twinkling stars in the sky,
Now silently rests
Only in the histroy of my mind and heart.
It's stilI fresh in my mind
How I used to sleep with my grand maa
On the old loose cot
Kept in the middle of the courtyard,
Watching the endless sky
Full of millions of stars,
Listening the stories of paradise.
As the wish of our successors prevails
There stands a palatial building
Full of well furnished rooms,
Cars and physical cares
With utmost privacy
For each and everyone.
What is not in the air
Is the scent of collective efforts,
And the touch of pain and pleasure,
Wherewith the walls and roofs were made,
There are designer beds,carved wooden sofas,
But no soft and craddling cot
Whereupon my childhood slept
In fearless freedom
With some affectionate elderly touch.
Let me live but once
Under the shadow of those days,
The feel of togetherness.