WINTER DAYS:
Winter mornings and honeydew memories sheathed in fraying coats of lost moments.
I am reminded of my grandfather; his graying hair fast loosing ground, a dim amber halo around him as he treaded slowly into the demure sun. And I am reminded of our long walks together. His soft wet palms wrapped firmly around my fingers whilst he led me through the dense mists towards the school bus. The look of finality on his face as he waved goodbye, like I would never come back.
Winter mornings and chatoyant epiphanies mingled with dilute happiness.
I am reminded of my grandfather; he smelt of soap and burnt tobacco, an indulgent smile playing on his lips even as he blew smoke into the air. And I am reminded of the gentle creaking sound of wood while he sat rocking in his chair. Those horn-rimmed glasses lay gently on his nose as he turned the pages of an ancient mythology with his sluggish fingers.
Winter mornings and mellow light filtering through clouds in sequined marginal smudges.
I am reminded of my grandfather; the smooth illogicality of all his assurances, where everything fit. And I am reminded of the things he used to say. That life is always about the little things. A steaming cup of sweet tea and some challenging crossword puzzles. The pink roses in our garden and tassels of some mundane conversations with me. Simple stuff like that, nothing profound or complex.
Winters and the prescient rustling of leaves with the impatient winds.
I am reminded of my grandfather; his starched crisp white cotton pajamas, the musty scent of old spice cologne that lingered wherever he went. And I am reminded of how he always helped me with my homework. He made everything seem so easy. Mathematics was no longer an impossible knot to untangle and History was no longer a bleary desert possessed of ghosts and shadows.
Winters and pristine whiteness sprinkled in butterfly abandon.
I am reminded of my grandfather. I miss him, a lot. I made huge mistakes with him. I pulled away. I took him for granted. I thought he wasn't cool enough to be my friend anymore. I live with the guilt of not having said goodbye. I live with the guilt of not having cared enough. I regret that I couldn't show gratitude to a man who showed me what being a man is all about.
Grandpa, I hope you can forgive me. I am old and still alive but already forgotten. I guess I now know what you went through. Life has a way of going around in circles, teaching you lessons, till death spreads its wings and you fly away with it.
extremely sensitive writing…
Strikignly sensitive warm and beautiful…
Many emotions seen.. and many of them hidden! I agree that I failed in deciphering many things that you actually portrayed in your brilliance! As Zeus said.. there are many feelings that a average reader like me can’t ascertain! I can say one thing.. these words are right from heaven.. You are gifted.. you are amazing!!
Beautiful! poetry in prose and I loved it
you write like a dream and i envy that.. and as KB said you have way with words..it is amazing to know that u write down ur memories as they were etched..
What a way with words…
have u read the little match girl….have u
A profound deserving tribute! Life comes full circle. This is a full circle! HUG!
Swats..ab kya misaal doon mein aapke is andaaz-e-bayaan ka..superb friend..too good..while u told abt ur grandpa..i remembered mine..TED
Thats some profound stuff u”ve penned down… Loved reading it.
very touching , i almost could visualise the GP rocking on the chair with his crispy whites and sipping a tea and in to some conversation( i cant hear) with a teenaged boy ……
lovely write up. warm, graphic, sensitive… liked it.
very touching write-up swats. very touching and brot along a lot of long lost memories.
terrific write-up….so sensitive & so stirring…i cd picture my own grandpa sitting there on his wooden chair….
An extremely beautiful piece. Makes me want to dig into some of your old posts…….and…characteristically ”compare and contrast”. This one from you is resonant with a placid promise of maturity than the previous thrill of unfettered enthusiasm and flash. This one is far more contained…..and in a strange way conveys more than what the average reader can ascertain. In a maner it looks like a new portal . For you. To me. Keep blogging! you have a gift! Regards……….ZEUS.
Loved it, everything about it. You are a lover of books, it’’s apparent from your dreamspace, and a lover of words … chatoyant epiphanies … never seen these two words used together … though I”m not sure an epiphany would count as epiphany if it was changeable … your grandfather was a wise man, a wisdom which comes from experience … life indeed is about the small things, just as happiness comes in small measures … and surely you are not as old as you feel, you write so beautifully, with a touch of youth.
Very sensitively portrayed. I thought it was autobiographical… until I reached the last line. “Grandpa, I hope you can forgive me. I am old and still alive but already forgotten.” So is this based on your actual feelings, but from the imaginary viewpoint of an aged grandson? Warm Regards, Ghost
very wel written tho some words i will have to look up in the dictionary.you write with sensitivity
interesting musings!!!!!!!!!
It is a circle and waits for no one? Expect your actions to bring the reactions. - Be careful about your actions.