Monday, 28 March 2016


 There on the bench both sitting together to enjoy the soothing breeze and view the evening hue,
I heard the melodious old song coming from their radio tune,
Their cheerful faces with the beat couldn’t control myself to walk near their feet,
Perhaps lost in their golden days ,my interruption disturbed the image,...

Greeted me with warm smile to enjoy the moment with them for a while,
All of a sudden she said,
the programmes are still same,
Our forgetful heart still hums with oldie click, straightening the line in one sheet,
I could feel their eyes half open with exasperation,
May be they are counting the lost thread in
their jurisdiction With a desire to mix the past with present as gratification,
Like me their son entered in middle, to see the triplication,
My stares glance from past to present in conglomeration,
The hearts once sing for self now beeps with family gratitude weaving dreams of high altitude,
His son changed the channel ,the song changed its colour,
More louder n rhythm in beat jerked my thought to slow,
I said looking at their dissatisfying eye new generation hardly follow the old melodious rhyme,
But the honey is sweeter in every sector,
Oldies changed the song of radio to little I-pod,
We too flow with the view with soothing breezes of aspiration,
The past has its colour rings so as the present more colourful wings,
Weather same but character change,
Music may old or new got its own flavour to gulp our hearts through its tune,
It’s only we who travel the road in dubious sway,
Positive life is more beautiful despite every differentiation.