Down The Memory Lane

Standing before this old dilapidated house Memories leap out from the moss grown crevices of my mind Like snakes uncoiling, rather like bees swarming Fragmented, scented and sour! I remember my old maternal uncle Who had turned a widower at forty one The presiding deity of a joint family of sixteen Most of the time he sprawled in the arm chair In the enclosed patio of this big house I remember the hullaballoo of a family reunion The animated talks in the living room And grand uncle seated proudly at the centre Everyone was so accustomed to the noise of his gargling When he brushed his teeth, An elaborate ritual of his morning ablutions Before having his cup of steaming black tea He loved small children and to all of us He was a stallion on whose back we could ride But our wild squabbling often annoyed him And in his raucous voice, he would silence all. As we stayed close to him to hear his stories, From his body came a strange odour of dried cuticle In the living room was an old grandfather clock Ticking away like the faint heart beat Of that decadent house with crumbling plaster He had seen heydays with many ceremonies of great fanfare When the house used to board all kith and kin And the granary was full with paddy and tons of black gold But as time slowly weakened his torso The house too lost its onetime splendor His children got scattered far and wide They went to hoard fortunes abroad But grand uncle refused to move away I wonder if there had been anyone with him in his last days With a shock one day we heard of his death Everyone believed he had had a clean end And he left the house orphaning it for ever Now the house remains, a fragment of an old memory Though once I thought I had escaped The compulsions of the past Now I discern, I am still pinioned by it! As I stand before this house, my ears perk up For the lovely sounds this house once produced And pine for the love that once so luxuriously bloomed around!