I remember as a child losing a favorite toy, Nothing said could bring back the joy. After tears, tenderness and time, I accepted the loss, And learnt a vital lesson of acceptance and moving across. Letting go is a complex art, Attachments are like sweet and sour tart, Detachment is not something for which we have a draft, Yet, life and living demands that we embrace this craft. Though generations before us have walked this path, Yet, each individual is on one’s own swath. Slowly we learn not all lost can be restored, Sadness and sorrow have also to be endured. Loosening some chords can cut sharper than a knife, Yet, holding on is against the natural order of life. Since losses in life are rampant and rife, It does not help to put up a strife. The sojourn of acceptance, Is not bereft of inner agitation, Can challenge many a disposition, But eventually leads to affirmation and personal evolution.
Another summer coming soon to an end, And a new season just around the bend, Its time to retrospect some old reels, Replay both facts and feels, Varied stages hold different appeal, Some truths slowly simmer and reveal. All actions have some return, Some easy and others stern. Some learnings come with burns. And teach us how to discrete and discern. Not all relations are forever, Some sustain and others sever. Not every time one needs to be quick and clever, Some difficult doors can be opened with simple lever. Since varied experiences make life’s twists and turn(s), And some acts are better without a rerun. Retrospection teaches there’s always something to learn, And something to unlearn.
A sari box got opened, And a revelation got made- Definition of a sari in a dictionary is wrong, Its not just a garment that’s about six feet long. It’s a harbinger of memories, A drape in its weft, weave and wrap carrying stories. My saris are not just cottons, silks, georgettes and chiffons, Each one carries memoirs-soirées and songs. A grand mother’s advise, An aunt’s surprise, So much in guise, And then-conjectures and surmise, These old saris have opened a floodgate of sorts, Pouring a deluge of memories- an entire lot, Taken me back to the place of my youth, An upbringing of caring, culture and couth. New fashions and fabrics may come and go, Some old ones are like a seasoned pro, Shapes and styles mold as one grow(s), Yet, a few can still make you gleam and glow, Reminding that though life’s like a river in continuous flow. Sometimes it’s better when you stop, savor and slow.
I remember those highly awaited vacation days, Respite from school work and its ways. Days to only laze and play. Time of precious summer holidays! Days when the mind at its own pace could drift, Free of home work, worries and school yard rift. New thoughts and ideas to unfold, When regular life was put on hold, A rested mind-vibrant, positive and bold, Could shed old patterns and to fresh ideas be sold. Visit to a new vista or place, Where clock seems to move at a slower pace. Not only a destination to see sights and sounds in fresh space. But to appreciate all of life's gift(s), and the lace. A few decades have flown by, But, summer still brings nostalgia of days gone by, Long bicycle rides, lazy afternoons, sweet mangoes and real talks with friends, Now as I lead life with new trends, And see children chat more with online friends, And consume media without an end, I revisit my summer holidays in my memories, And recall those times with sweet poetic summaries.