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“The memories come back like the rainbow after the rain with all the hues and shades of color and an unending train the bougainvillea tree nearby my parents house where I grew up did not ask me my name she embraced me as she had done in my schooldays in every way the same the little squirrel just now tip-toed down the lane looking at the spectacle unfolding in the rain after all these years I have come back to my parents home the clouds have different shapes but the air smells the same ...” — Avijeet Das
The memories come back
like the rainbow after the rain
with all the hues and shades of color
and an unending train
the bougainvillea tree nearby my parents house where I grew up
did not ask me my name
she embraced me as she had done
in my schooldays in every way the same
the little squirrel just now
tip-toed down the lane
looking at the spectacle
unfolding in the rain
after all these years
I have come back to my parents home
the clouds have different shapes
but the air smells the same ...