Nostalgia (vignettes)

(i) she wore a tired smile like singed marigold petals in june, to camouflage the searing pain which wizened her beyond an anorexic youth yet unlived~ sighing soft whispers to placate our anxieties with her complacence and suddenly that flickering smile froze on chapped lips now quiet, her voice coffined in silence. (ii) life is …

Yearning for Sepia Yesteryears…

I yearn to return and traipse along those straits sepia and serpentine strewn in chiaroscuros spun on boughs of flamboyant mesua, riddled in raindrops blasphemed by muddy puddles and echoing in muted whispers of scarlet palash petals peppering silent mornings, where rainbow fantasies of youth sequined my nights and childhood slowly altered to blossom into …

Childhood Memories of March…

apple blossom mornings of march tinted in aromatic sighs emanating from tea leaves' nostrils, were favored in gold-pink sweetness of gujhias deep fried in mother's kitchen of magic. festival of colors lurked round the corners of days laved in lukewarm honey, as seen in scarlet laughter of blazing flames of the forest, peppered on dewy …

Memories of Blackberries…

    their sweet-sour, tangerine flavor, still lingers on my tongue, no longer dyed in eager gluttony of naiveté     as eyes lost in infinite azure, read thoughts perched as praying mantis on foliage's palms- travelling trail of forgotten reminiscences. reborn, with a look at shriveled arms, of a dying sentinel, gnarled, twisted standing …

Jasmine-scented Memories of Childhood…

  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cTkQ1VQdHnU   moist, dewy morns peppered in honeydew sunshine, caressed by morning breeze softly on blushing, vermilion cheeks, fringed in translucent frills of mist with lingering fragrance of faint sighs of withered jasmines that cover grass in sublime quilt, still hover in sepia memories, that scent familiar and precious like taste of acerbic berries …

A Priceless Gift

subtle fingers of mist coveryesteryears in sighs with cracked edgesand sepia footprints are leftby filtering recollectionson the bosom of tranquil moments- transient scribbles of reverielike the hues of fading crepuscule.distant echo of words long forgotten is revived by lethargic solitude interwoven withwith threads of recapitulations,as seemlessly snippets of long erased past unfold in burnished syllables of the old.I remember …