• Vol. 02
  • Chapter 12
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History of an attic, now unused

This was the sanctuary that saw them bloom
One by one and then leave the nest for cities
Unknown and strange in life journeys replicated
Across the world, time and again, by fellow men.
Now unused, silent and dusty, it is in ruins
That was never imagined by anyone then!
The expanded town below can be glimpsed
From its glass windows, mere phantom
Shimmering in the haze outside, mere jagged
Outlines, rugged shapes, sketched against a white sky!
Inside the attic the years crawl in the dust deposited
By the passing tempests, rains, summers and winters bitter;
Gleeful laughter can be heard like the rolling thunder
Of the violent storms in the enclosed space that was
Hideout for the siblings, distant echoes reverberate
But hardly anybody listens to the voices rising up from the past.
A living home---the attic in every family is a mute witness
To brawls, bickering, tears and then bear- hugs; some old books
And chairs discarded in the halls and then moved up to the room half
Suspended in air!
Now, that half-room sits hunched, like the hulk of a rusted ship abandoned
In a choppy sea and buffeted by the strong waves and winds.
Debris of the decades lies thick there on its unswept floor
Without any footprints zigzagging, crisscrossing it, in a fervent
Quest for bits and pieces of childhood forever gone;
Blankets, sagging chairs, wooden sheets and other items
Testify to histories and secrets mutually shared with inmates
Over sandwiches and coffee mugs, tones conspiratorial, faces grim
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History of an attic, now unused

Dreams dreamt, alliances forged and then broken; sibling rivalries and love;
The warmth, coziness, the streaming light, laughter and the
Commanding view from the top of the house, a breathing kaleidoscope
Of emotions, moods and moments---
All that is buried deep in the gloomy nooks and corners of an attic
Now forever alone and unused space,
A burial chamber of all that has lapsed.
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