The pullup ring that hangs down from the jackfruit tree still exists,though the rope is frayed,
The koel still sings atop the neem tree, all she needs to say is already said.
The drumsticks in season still flowers,
And the pomegranate falls in that well of ours.
Sparrows sometimes still fall in the well, no one drops a bucket to pull them out,
Poor souls thrash and gulp and drown, can't for help even shout.
Guava Rots and falls amidst thunder showers,
And chickens lay egg in that backyard of ours!
Friends walk past, don't even glance for fear,
They just might see some ghosts of those past years,
They bow their heads and walk past those flowers,
That still bud, in those rose bushes of ours.
Must move on, time can't stay...
Memories fade and hair turns gray.
Must learn to live life by the hour,
And fake it in our Ivory Towers!
