Old names, old friends, old loves,
Are now slowly fading away,
Like the places we have been to,
Homes that we have lived in:

They exist like names on the map,
Or like faces in old albums.
A mist has fallen over them
We have forgotten the way there.

We remember them with fondness
But we cannot go back ever
Except in half-remembered dreams,
In storm tossed lonely winter nights.

Diptesh Ghosh