For as back as I can remember, my ancestral home in a charming little town always repelled me. A few days back I visited the place one more time. But it didn’t fail to enchant me this time. I entered only to know that these will probably be the last days of breaks there because they were leaving. Tough luck had it. By the time I realised how beautiful the place was, it was already too late and wouldn’t feel like home anymore.
The key turns and the door unlocks
It’s all the same yet peculiar
No noise or incessant chatter
Just empty rooms and chippy walls
No Wrinkled faces to adore
Just a few pictures hanging on the wall
The sunny veranda now dusty
The backyard unruly.
And the flashbacks came in
From my childhood here
How I hated the place, Oh what a sin
Too late when I’m old enough to see clear.
It was the very last time
That a school break took me home
The loved ones are leaving in a trice
And with them, the homely tone.
In the many years to come
No one to build me swings on the mango trees
No one to pluck flowers with
Rising before the sun.
Age didn’t last long
But many memories it did leave
Like an old favorite song
Not always there, but you still believe-
That the gist is always there
If you want it to be
If you really do care
Then the good times is all your memories will keep.