The Ancestry Poem by Jaishree Nair

Trying to turn back the pages of decaying youthful days,
hidden beneath the greys of second innings,
The wheels of time breaking the news,
What is ours is not ours anymore.....

The squabblings and the bickerings
The sniggerings and the snickerings
The tears and the joys,
All to carry in self knapsacks Now....

The sweaty hands that strengthened the pillars,
The thoughtfulness of forefathers that sweetened the fruits
The tender mangoes that dropped at the slightest tremors of young feet,
The many hands that prized open a jackfruit in mock greed....

The aroma that invited many,
The bellies that went back satiated,
The never empty cauldron that fed many
Tongues wagged of the nobility of the nobles....

Such was our blood... Such is our blood
But what was ours is not ours anymore.....

The decades of memories over to strangers....
The courtyard that reeked with the holy cowdung
Now bright with coloured unfeeling blocks,
The home that housed many generations.

The oak that hid the huddled partners in crime
The authoritative commands from the rocking chair -
a nightmare for all the pranksters
Now craving for the resonating roar of the lion

The tired eyes of thousand years cherished
A long chain of bonds linked
To garland his frame on the wall he hoped
What was ours is not ours anymore....

The fame and name that reflected in many
Now buried in the soil of origin
To be torn away from the tangled roots
The agony foaming forth from nine fathom....

Lament from the souls of kin
breezing away like a tale of woe of the season.....