Familiar recollections.

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How can I describe something when words fail me?..

Without definition, without bones, the form will collapse...

I can smell the memory,

I can even walk through it,

Then why does it vanish when I try to phrase it?

It just diffuses...

The summer afternoons

when my grandmother sat by the window,

sewing or knitting,

with her long tendril-like hair let down,

The smell from dad's room

as he sat at his desk for hours

painting and smoking.

The taste of peanuts and jaggery,

that mom munched on

those Sunday afternoons,

immersed in her mystery novels.

The sound of clattering dishes,

as the maid cleaned them,

running the water all along.

The taste of tears,

that trickled to the lips,

lapped up with the tongue.

The song of the koel,

on the mango trees,

so harmonious with silence.

The sound of the ceiling fan,

whirring while everyone slept,

sounding so loud,

yet a lullaby!

Words fail me...

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