By Nandagopal T
What makes us all teary-eyed when we grow nostalgic of the days that were? Nandagopal attempts to find an answer through a poem which stresses that in the end, nostalgia is all about our dire attempts to make peace with Father Time himself.
They move out.
The train moves.
The wheels turn and we hear
The end,
Behind the grooves
That are crunching the rails,
In fear.
Time on His track,
Chugs along,
Scraping our memories along
The veneer of the subconscious,
Like a pin
On the shellac of an old song,
Playing parts that would not
Pass muster when played on
Other records. We think
We can’t have
Greener grass
Than what future and pasts He affords.
So still we hold on,
Nostalgic
And sentimental,
To the days that were.
Our eyes well;
We are allergic
To cut onions, we say.
We move away
With a wooden stare.
Nandagopal T is an engineer from Tamil Nadu with a passion for all things literary. The thrill of having his written work published, he believes, exceeds every other sensation. One of his short stories was published as part of an anthology.
