15

Somehow, she always lovedThat only nook in her headWhich housedThat chaos and clutterOf all those dishevelled memoriesToppling over one anotherAnd held in entangled togetherLike as if, they were tiny souverniersOf all those yesteryearsWhere even ifA few were brokenOf strength and wisdomThey did form a tokenThus whenever called lifeFor that order and solaceEscaped she alwaysTo that lone disorderAnd happy placeBut then, as againOne question did remainThat, in all that abscondingFrom now to th...

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Ellora Mohanty

blogs from Mumbai

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