Dust stained my finger tips
As I ran them through
My old school books
Stacked, shoved at the back of my
Parent’s garage
Sweat beads adorned my forehead
The heat unbearable, there in that dusty
Dark room.
Gripped by Nostalgia, I remembered
The last summer, of freedom
The summer of me.
Hot, Blue, Dazzling sky, intermitted with
Cotton clouds
The ice candies, the summer rain
The freedom of finished exams
All weaved into one chain.
The new crush, his dreamy eyes
The never-ending evening strolls
The fuchkawaala, the first day first shows.
The summer of ninety eight,
Still etched in my mind
Only memories now
That I could find.
As I wipe off the dust from my fingers
I can feel it rain outside.
Raindrops splash onto the ground
I walk out into the shower of memories.
Drenched to my core
I feel a certain happiness
And I craved for some more
To have such memories
Is the gift from time
Soul splashed with the rain of recalls
I keep walking fast
Through the
Rain soaked streets of my past.
Author’s Note: This poem was written as a part of CCD and Poetry Couture’s initiative themed as ‘Summer Splash’. The poem had been recited at an open mic reading that was held at CCD, Lake Road, Kolkata.
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