Veins of leafy plants creeping and
Peeping from the cracks in the wall of stone
As the koyal sat regally and chirped
On its wooden branch of a throne

Out in the veranda sitting
Cross legged as you tugged
My messy long tresses with coconut oil
And made that wretched braid I loathed

The smell of ripe mangoes lingered
In the summer air and starry night
As I lay on my back on the folding bed-which was as ancient as my grandma-
And tried to decipher those stars in all my childlike might

Running barefoot in the haveli corridors
Built in that old colonial style
Chasing you as you outran me in your sarree
Almost as if I was chasing my dreams

I remember the playful teasing
As you became a child with me
I also picture grandma's white haired bun
And the flyaway hair coming loose as she chased after me

I remember those lazy peaceful afternoons
When dreams exceeded reality
It was a droning hum of a life
I miss it all so dearly

So whenever I want to go back to you, mum
To visit those summer glows
I just close my eyes and think of that haveli
And once again I smell the mangoes