Memories

The old typrwriter, letters writen to my grandfather.

The woolen sweater knitted by my mother.

Waiting by the window everyday, for a ride on my father's motorbike.

The pink dress made from my father's old shirt.

The chocolate cake made for my sister's first birthday,

Our first holiday by air, and trip to the Andaman's by sea.

The green table fan bought for the summers.

The black and white television that gathers dust,

Sitting alone in the attic.

The applaud when my painting won an award.

The midnight pizza party with my sister.

The bicycle rides and the picnic tents,

Reading Enid Blyton and Nancy Drew.

The bumpy rides in the Army school bus.

The samosas and pakoras of our school canteen.

My first article published in the newspaper.

Getting up early to play with my friend in the house lawn.

The swimming lessons and winning prizes.

The hot cup of tea with biscuits on our way to Shimla.

Finding Christmas gifts stuffed in my stockings,

And leaving notes under the pillow for Santa.

The list is long, and memories endless.

A treasure is woven, a treasure is lived.