Of you sitting on your favorite log
Under a rainbow of granny's bougainvilleas
Across the ancestral house
Every afternoon without fail
Except when you were away on a travel.
Evening found us in unalloyed laughter
Under vintage gas-lit lamps standing proudly
And a bedtime story of drunken monkeys.
You tickled us until we felt like dying
From happiness and fell tired
Sound asleep on the mat-laden floor
Between you and granny
Under a mosquito net that stood
As silent witness to years and years
Of domestic memories and bliss.
Fireflies watched us sleeping
As the lamps burnt all through the night,
Casting soft shadows of our dreams
On the old stereo.
Early morning found us peeping
At you and granny from a crevice upstairs
Where you strummed your banjo
While sliding an empty medicine bottle
On the strings
To give a bent effect on the melody
As granny grounded cocoa beans into little cakes
For our breakfast porridge.
On several occasions, we trooped
To a Chinese bakery for an early morning salt bread
As glasses of milk waited for us
On top of your sewing machines.
Our feet pedaled absent-mindedly
As we spooned out the drink
And collected back the dreams
We dreamt the night before.
How we frolicked in abundance of love
In your arms and how we looked forward
To each reunion with you and granny,
I thought those moments would last foreve
Priceless fractions of our tender years.
Several years came and slowly dragged by
Thirty of them all.
Though fireflies are rare to find now
And seem to be forgotten,
Good times are part of family heritage
Preserved in peals of laughter.
The hums of your banjo will never stop
Playing in my mind
When I get reminded of you.
(Reposted: March 11, 2007)
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