On a visit to granny in the Doon valley
It was March and the tree full of Mulberries.
Red, purple teasing from far, fetched a cane basket
Joyfully picked one, ate some while birds created racket.
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The visuals you describe are always so lively. You take us for a while into your world with your word play. It is always an experience reading your poetry Mamtaji.
Mamtaji, Thank you for sharing the beautiful sweet sour memories of Granny and Mulberries. CP
A bittersweet tribute. Wrinkles only enhance the beautiful faces of grandmothers. You are still feeling that warm embrace in the landscapes of your mind. Thank you for this touching write. Love, SandraX
mamtaji, granny and grandpa... they are the only assets to children...second only comes parents..........it was the culture of our nation, sad now they are thrown out like values from our lives... we know the warmth that we still cherish...........sad..really sad...........
The mulberries are reminiscent of your Granny and her kind and generous heart...lovely piece
toothless wrinkled beauty of the heart that love...every household has a reciepe handed down from the older generation..it gives us a chance to think of them...lovely memories..well written
Yeah mamta, memories are memories; what can one do of them? ? ? .....vo kagaz ki kashti vo baarish ka paani.....! Excellent creation, dear! ! !
Beautiful memories of your past come flooding with at the sight of the memorabilia of mulberries.....nice write! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
this shows how you loved your granny so much...loved the poetic story...10
I'm continously amazed at the felicity of your writes, their sure sense of progression and the way they are rounded off. This write evokes a wistful yearning for the old world charm without being hysterically sentimental about it.Very finely nuanced and delicately etched.