A nostalgic poem, by Sushant, exclusively for Different Truths.
The smile Only on photographs now Of our grandparents. They were our grounds Where we played. We grew with them, The sandbags and swings On our yard, Fixed by grandparents. We were childish in The days of dawn When our grandparents Taught us childhood lessons Of inking our name on the sand, Where the shore of the ocean, Would take it away as we grew older. There was contentment In our childhood days. The wrinkles on our grandparents’ skin Never taught us to not play With our youthful complexion. We do not forget our grandparents. The modernity has its nostalgia But its past is not forsaken. We call it history, It is the time that never gets old. An old grandfather clock Showing true rings of time Ticks and ticks. The garland on our hand, Waits to adorn the photographs Of our grandparents, The ancestral cobweb, Does not bind us to forget Something precious from the childhood era Still not bygone.
Picture design Anumita Roy