In middle of the night
or in the morning early
Hurtling down we came
With speeds
of tingling expectations
Through the winding roads
of concrete and tar
and through wistful misty memories
In the courtyard
we gather
Some having
wise greys in the black
Some happy with
Few strands of blacks in the greys
Every strand, however
Telling different stories
There we mingle
a part of every memory
a carefree child
In every worn eyes
nostalgic eyes searching
for those moments in past
Vivid they are, in the Now
merging seamlessly with yesteryears
The house stands testimony
Of happy and sad
every laughter, every sob
The dip in the pond
and those mischiefs, unnoticed
Aware of each past moment
that crowd into this moment, Now
bound in a unwritten book of stories
Bound and connected
In a single strand
The beads of a clan
with mingling bloodlines
Yet thicker are the thoughts
and feelings that they brought
For that will linger when all leave
In this silent house, full of memories
There we are
Bidding goodbyes
Some travelling far
Some close by
Separated by distance
Bound, yet with feelings
With promises to be back
to strengthen these bonds
The house witnessed it all
the placid pond heard it too
The worn out steps held us back
Majestic lions at gates, hid their emotions
As I took a final look back
hidden, in the white canopy
And glorious decorations
I think I saw the house smile
छोड़ दूँ
My Tales Within 