Nostalgia

When visiting my ancestral home in plains ,

my mind raced down those lanes.

Hide and seek , trick or treat ,

were the games we played.

The Old mango tree ,

standing alone in a corner , in our courtyard ,

Inviting me to stop, climb snd drop,

Playing bang, bang, 

like riding on horse back, 

bandits, cow boys and sheriff 

and cops.  

Whether Summer , wind or rain, 

nothing could stop our game.

Rolling in mud , dust or sand grain ,

was enough to entertain.  

Childhood memories were there 

to make us nostalgic.

To come back here again and again. 

Mesmerised by the green all around, 

the pitter patter rain drops falling,

tickling my cheeks, 

wading through waters,

swinging feet in ponds,

the innocent giggle, 

to mingle with  buddies,

to gabble and dance,

was more than enough ,our want .