Ancestral home

My memories of close relatives and our chatter among ourselves still echo in my ancestral home while most of those beautiful people have left their earthly abode and adorn the walls in nicely crafted photographs,  I searched frantically for free space on the wall wondering if I had any space left on the wall and the hearts of people living still.  A huge gap between my visits created a unfillable vacuum into which many living acquaintances of the past have vanished with just their memories still living in my mind- the laughter of my cousin, the cot on which my uncle used to sleep, small table where we would sit and have heated debates with no conclusions, the verandah where we used to sit whenever there was power cut.  I am amazed to see that those memories are still a part of me, very much active in some  beautiful but sad corner in the depths of my heart - it appeared to me that I am as much a dead living, these memories are so intense and deeply etched that I longed for more of those -  may be somewhere deep within the depths of my being is a memory of my creation, just waiting for it to unfold.

Water