Pages of the memorabilia fluttered ,few of them floated in the air,
dispersing the seeds of memories, in the barren atmosphere,
every leaf had a history filled with life and feelings attached,
lost,forgotten often ignored,by the self centred egocentric man!
Long before,he was mere,being just a commoner,
no money to buy luxuries, spendthrift was never his chore,
simplicity reflected from within,through his words and his lore…
considerate, striving qualities made him exceptional …
When couturier designs never labeled a person,
times when his disposition was his drive,
appearance was an added feather,
the real plume was the gorgeous inner verbatim…
Impeccant smile flowed from the heart,
spreading to the end of the lips
shining through gleaming eyeballs,
happiness overflowed and flushed …
the lament of soul distressing!
An old diary of the golden times,
disseminates the fragrance of those lovely days,
reminding the spirit of the fallen virtues,
which got lost and receded…
The ambience too illuminates,
Experiencing the tangible reminiscences,
The soul gets overwhelmed…
seeing the quondam age,….
Through the eyes ,drops of repentance wets,
wiping the guilt of killing the conscience,
when God himself plays the recorded game!
soumyav 