Graveyard of Memories

by Rajnish Mishra

“Like a cloud” I went there, and like lightning,

I fled. Moments, long past and forgotten,

came to life there. Spots of that house had

slices of my life; our lives - stored:

the courtyard where both my grandparents

had breathed their last, the terrace

where I’d spent many afternoons and evenings

playing cricket and badminton with my brother

and other friends, the tap under which we used to

take bath and that has since been removed,

the now empty place where a huge iron water

storage drum used to be, the bed on which father

used to sleep, my study-room also my brother’s,

the table on which our telephone set was kept

and the old wire fittings hanging there still,

the old, kitchen and the corner where grandmother

used to cook, then mother, the two old almirahs

with assorted fragments of our past stored within,

everything was at its place. Only the people were gone.

Lost to death or to transfer of location.

They’ll never return,

I’ll never return,

the house will never return to life.