Down The Memory Lane Poem by Valsa George
Down The Memory Lane
Standing before this old dilapidated house
Memories leap out from the moss grown crevices of my mind
Like snakes uncoiling, rather like bees swarming
Fragmented, scented and sour!
I remember my old maternal uncle
Who had turned a widower at forty one
The presiding deity of a joint family of sixteen
Most of the time he sprawled in the arm chair
In the enclosed patio of this big house
I remember the hullaballoo of a family reunion
The animated talks in the living room
And grand uncle seated proudly at the centre
Everyone was so accustomed to the noise of his gargling
When he brushed his teeth,
An elaborate ritual of his morning ablutions
Before having his cup of steaming black tea
He loved small children and to all of us
He was a stallion on whose back we could ride
But our wild squabbling often annoyed him
And in his raucous voice, he would silence all.
As we stayed close to him to hear his stories,
From his body came a strange odour of dried cuticle
In the living room was an old grandfather clock
Ticking away like the faint heart beat
Of that decadent house with crumbling plaster
He had seen heydays with many ceremonies of great fanfare
When the house used to board all kith and kin
And the granary was full with paddy and tons of black gold
But as time slowly weakened his torso
The house too lost its onetime splendor
His children got scattered far and wide
They went to hoard fortunes abroad
But grand uncle refused to move away
I wonder if there had been anyone with him in his last days
With a shock one day we heard of his death
Everyone believed he had had a clean end
And he left the house orphaning it for ever
Now the house remains, a fragment of an old memory
Though once I thought I had escaped
The compulsions of the past
Now I discern, I am still pinioned by it!
As I stand before this house, my ears perk up
For the lovely sounds this house once produced
And pine for the love that once so luxuriously bloomed around!
Wow. So Beautiful poem. You have added everything in sequence so beautifully, that I couldn't take my eyes from the poem. I read it twice. Each lines you have portrayed so well, I could feel each lines. Your poem took me back to my childhood memories. We too used to wait for stories to listen from our uncles..Loved reading it.
His children got scattered far and wide They went to hoard fortunes abroad This is a problem of the world that has shrunk. Children get education and are encouraged to pursue their careers. One need not be abroad to be away from childhood home, one could well be in another state within the country. The price of pursuing a career is paid back in other ways. The poem gives a beautiful view point showing the realities. Thank you.
All splendours are swept away with the wave of time and exists as reminiscence with us.A beautiful write.
An emotional and impressive description that touches every heart having sweet memories of the past.
Though once I thought I had escaped The compulsions of the past Now I discern, I am still pinioned by it! As I stand before this house, my ears perk up For the lovely sounds this house once produced And pine for the love that once so luxuriously bloomed around! .........so touching and true. A beautiful poem so nicely executed. Thanks for sharing.10
A beautiful poem on a significant other who left precious memories of growing up with him. We can only treasure and value to these memories for they have become part of us. You said this so well in these verses: 'Though once I thought I had escaped The compulsions of the past Now I discern, I am still pinioned by it! As I stand before this house, my ears perk up For the lovely sounds this house once produced And pine for the love that once so luxuriously bloomed around! ' Thank you Valsa!
A beautiful poem on a significant other who left precious memories of growing up with him. We can only treasure and value to these memories for they have become part of us. You said this so well in these verses: 'Though once I thought I had escaped The compulsions of the past Now I discern, I am still pinioned by it! As I stand before this house, my ears perk up For the lovely sounds this house once produced And pine for the love that once so luxuriously bloomed around! ' Thank you Valsa!
Decaying structure, eroding old values, disintegrating joint family system and loneliness of a grand old figure- all in perfect sync with the theme of the poem. We cannot always dissociate from our past as you rightly observe...'I am still pinioned by it.' Enjoyed this lovely read, Valsa
Between the coordinate of time and existence and the course i mean a final course the virtue is left with us if we deserve lovely
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/24/2024 5:23:15 PM # 1.0.0.1119
From the misty past floats faint and sweet memories of strains and calmness of a dilapidated house.....now standing silent far from the ways of men with no men......Valsa......so beautifully narrated with touching words..... a great piece with great reminiscence