Ancestral Cobweb 

A nostalgic poem, by Sushant, exclusively for Different Truths.

The smile 
Only on photographs now 
Of our grandparents. 
They were our grounds  
Where we played. 
We grew with them, 
The sandbags and swings 
On our yard,
Fixed by grandparents.  
We were childish in 
The days of dawn
When our grandparents 
Taught us childhood lessons 
Of inking our name on the sand, 
Where the shore of the ocean, 
Would take it away as we grew older. 
There was contentment 
In our childhood days.
The wrinkles on our grandparents’ skin 
Never taught us to not play 
With our youthful complexion.  
We do not forget our grandparents. 
The modernity has its nostalgia 
But its past is not forsaken. 
We call it history, 
It is the time that never gets old. 
An old grandfather clock 
Showing true rings of time
Ticks and ticks. 
The garland on our hand, 
Waits to adorn the photographs
Of our grandparents, 
The ancestral cobweb, 
Does not bind us to forget 
Something precious from the childhood era 
Still not bygone. 

Picture design Anumita Roy