Resonant Nostalgia

 



 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 ancestral home,

to the Vellayani lake that frequents

to kiss my revered terrain –

the festivities, the celebrations,

the adrenaline rush of elders and kids alike,

solemnizing completeness,

affirming harmony,

which now sadly stands to be corrected.

 

Development tarnishing ties,

reducing integrity to fractured hopes.

‘Nuclear’ excels as the defining word –

may it be family or the nasty device,

it is ample to detonate and destruct

the fierce nostalgia of fond memories.


 © Anjana Premkumar 2025

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