[A poem by Mani garu titled ‘Memories’.]
Some times,
I walk 🚶♀️ into the wilderness of memories
Picking up the pieces
One by one.
Some makes me laugh some sad
Some brings regrets.
But every piece has
It’s own music,
It’s own fragrance.
None however has lost its lustre.
Each emanates light of it’s own
like glowing fireflies.
When I try to hold them longingly In my hands with nostalgia,
That light flickers and dies.
A smile flashes on my face.
It tries to whisper “They are dead after all.
Dont dwell on dead ones. Live now and here.”
I nodded with understanding.
