Wednesday, 4 May 2016


I was facinated by rural life,
As my forefathers left their place and moved for urban life,
We seldom go,visits our relatives and return with hunting memories,
I heard Papa's anguish for our ancestral home,
Now deserted and neglected lying to mourn,
He dreams to settle their after his retirement,
But dreams and reality clash to an extent that forced him to settle with urban flow,
Still his heart beats for village folk lore,temple galore,and many more,
His daily evening stories for us bears a new event from his nostalgic page,
I get carried away by it,imagines myself as a part of the place,
His depth of narration brings tears to my eyes,
Could always feel perhaps Papa too regrets for Grandpa,
Why he fascinated for psedo lifestyle,
If ever he finds time he make us realise our forgotten roots,
Tells Mum to prepare the lost recipe now withdrawn from kitchen menu,
Then assits Mum to prepare the item ,
Guiding her to maintain the taste of village venue,
But the lost flavour is lost in the aroma of dreams,
I heard him say the flavor was better but this is just its replica,
Unity he mentions in his tales among the village folk,
I never witnessed it among the urban show,
The web of thoughts I carry from childhood dragged my youth to the village gate,
But I found the same urban folk here,
The simplicity I was fascinated now vanished
And replaced with modern technique and gadgets,
The lost recipe is for ever lost in woods ,
While fast food took an usrup role,
The ethics and etiquetes wear a new look,
Change in lifestyle ,with modern pattern,
The aroma of curry is same as my urban home.