Remembering Things That Are Lost Poem by Arvind Srivastava

Some things do not become part of folklore, legend or rumour
All things on earth work in turns
Like all the letters of a type-machine do not come on paper at the same time
Like we cannot see all the scenes of a play at once
Soldiers do not destroy their ammunition at the border at once
A juggler cannot show his tricks at once
Beauties also have to walk on the ramp again and again
Just as all the seasons do not arrive at the same time
Mountaineers have to walk behind the mountaineer
Sequentially in different ways
Everyone has their own roles determined
Many things do not become transferred traditions
Like the letter-box hanging at the door
This box waiting for messengers from the postman
Sometimes introducing an enlightened and elite family and which the owner of the house opens
At least once/again and again according to his restlessness
Because letters are used by S. There was no MS then!

Among the things separated from time, the race of laughter also stopped

Which used to fly from the paan shop fifty-hundred meters away

Whatever the topic, why would we not like it

Those who used to laugh used to laugh in groups, loudly

Not like now, thinking that someone will see!

In the same way, the weather washed away

The traditions of quarrelsome women who used to fight for hours and sometimes, for many days

In our place, the brave women of Tintoliya and Pachtoliya were once considered experts in the art of fighting by waving their hands

Before TV reached every home!

These few things are not vanishing from our lives all of a sudden

Many such traditions have travelled a long way

Like stories of lovers writing letters in blood

Like long curly hair of poets

Like crickets in silence.