The upper floor window
is permanently closed now.
As a child one kept vigil
of comings and goings of people.
The lawn is covered entirely
autumn leaves falling unashamedly.
The roof is also covered
on seeing all this i feel dejected.
The plants a lady had maintained
have disappeared and flowers have since died.
Rust covers the door handle and the lock
indicating stopping of the time clock.
As I enter the house and peep in
dust covered look greets me from within.
All the dishes in the kitchen at their usual place
steel utensils used by a child to even see his face.
Time here has stood still
in other rooms too I get the same feel.
Cockroaches and rats have a field day
naturally there is no one to drive them away.
The place where family daily gathered.
the family area where the parents also prayed.
It is now silent like death descends
dust on musical instruments seems gathers.
Some clothes still hang on the clothes rack
leaving everything all had moved to a different track
Earthquake that year had not damaged the house much
lives were lost in the stampede aftermath.
The old man and his wife lived alone they said
no one came from family for funeral.
After the rituals were over
the house was locked by a villager.
The neighbour performed the last rites
the old couple's children were his friends.
Now when I see this sad sight
remembering with sadness I sigh.
Had the son not insisted on seeking fortune in a big city
he may have been here to stop this tragedy.
If he had wisely stayed to his roots true
I would not be telling this sad tale to you.