My Granny’s Home

My earliest recollections of that home,a flow of mirth.

Every time we approached that street , it gave birth

To an occasion of socializing with all those I love

And felt a compassion, a spirit that so move,

Within us all . If it was Eid my joys have no bound,

Dress gorgeous , play and party all day round

During such sessions of hide and seek,

Might get hurt, someone who’s meek.

Yet those were simpler days of life

And pleasure plain of a happy strife,

Our Aunts were queens of that realm,

Everlasting joy breathing without qualm.

Those Uncles ours were not lesser kind

In showering love, keeping each one in mind

Equal partners of our happy family,

A perfect blend of all in our company

There a deeper association of love with every nook n cranny

It’s windows, grills and galleries ; Ah house of granny

Sleeping under a canopy of stars in sky,

A row of beds spread out in raptures gay

With mango tree on one end,on the other orange,

Such were days then from sorrows strange

My granny’s home with its immense capacity

To fit each gem with precision and nicety

Abundant stores of thoughts a treasure

Associated from thence of joy without measure

As a reminiscence of those days makes me nostalgic

But that house now strangers abode is a fact tragic.