Nostalgic Magic

That day was nostalgic for many reasons. I was in the middle of nowhere.

Past was getting closed and the future was still unpacked.

Present was flowing, the clock was moving, nothing seem to stop.

And silly me was wrapped up in past memories filling myself with nostalgic family sickness.

I didn't have many fond memories but whatever they were, were close to my heart.

Because those memories have formed me, framed me, made me what I am today.

That old bag, that pencil box, And the bag of old Blocks.

The pencil that I used to rewind the jumbled tape,

Today life is jumbled and no pencil to help

My silly DIY's, My arty crafts,

The special gifts with those wrapping charts.

The chocolate wrappers I enjoyed and preserved,

The black and white clicks, where I smiled to observe.

The pixie boxes that hold love, Cartons of dove and glove.

Small button of that old dress, the pocket of that leather wallet.

The cassettes that hold emotions, the songs written to hum in slow motion.

The audio player, which played the old prayer.

The candy boxes, The matchboxes, the letters in mail boxes.

Oh, life was a paradox and I was sitting in Pandora's box.

When stepped on the train which will never bring me back to the same pain.

I was clueless, I was view-less,

When trees pass, I guess the game of chess, Some failed tests some old zests.

Some failed tests some old zests.

The chacha, pinky comics, and champak tales

These can not be measured on any scale.

My first phone, holding it I had flown.

The first camera, the black roll, the negatives,

The memories that were very sensitive.

My first prize in the competition, My first salary the note I had hidden.

It was all getting bubble wrapped, to get a new home away from home.

How can one not be nostalgic to see those forgotten things?