Reverie

    Is it my cognitive reality which is now the embodiment of my embarrassment, and deepens into resentment, turning inward, belittling me, because I am drooling, gaping at the country snacks inside the glass shelf of the tea stall !   Gosh, the blush on my face, like the flames of a furnace hot and red, which I dread has attracted many heads.   Those mint candies , lemon candies , rainbow lollipops and little cakes on the owner’s desk lure, poke my pitiful heart, rejuvenate its pace, its rhythm, pull its strings to those, lost moments, the forgotten experiences and enunciate it isn’t a gone memory.   It deliberates my connection, my bond to my childhood, my precious era, laden with mischiefs and innocent altercations.   The bus I proudly steered, my brothers its co-passengers, was my architectural design, made with my Amma’s saree .   That vehemence cascades down further to my ance...