It is a huge mansion
But with a big empty hall,
With many rooms to hold a family safe and comfortable
But with dust claden doors and rusted knobs,
The porch is so big to hold evening chai discussions,
But the kitchen is empty with no one to make chai,
From a home where the milkman was scolded daily for he was late,
To a building where no soul wanders.
It has every facility to keep any human cozy,
But sadly has no human to prevent it from being dusty.
Its galleries are pretty with rooms on every side,
But it's backyard is filled with wild vegetation.
Once a pleasant Puja room,
Has no worshippers now.
And the refrigerator that was filled with goodies long ago,
Has no one to switch it on.
From a house where kids fought for setting the AC temperatures,
To an forgotten place where no one switches them on.
The huge cupboards where the granny hid her belongings from the children,
To a home which became an abandoned box after her death.
Where the shopkeeper's son delivered soft drinks and snacks every evening,
To a place with no one to open the living rooms.
Once a clean and charming drawing room,
To a place of lonliness.
Where people argued to decide the menu for dinner,
To a place where the cooking pots are never warm,
Once the favourite spot for summer vacations,
To a ground full of memories where people never tread…