Threads of Nostalgia

by Ishaan Singh aged 13

Winter dawn –
I sit with my grandmother
as she weaves the sweater for me.

“You know how happy we were then?”
she says, with a trickle of river
racing down her wrinkled cheek;
“A line, a boundary drawn not only along
two seperate nations;
but along families,
love,
and people.”

She carefully weaves the threads
of nostalgia,
of every hue –
red, green, blue.

“The greenest of pastures,
fluttering butterflies with their gaudy wings,
sunlit mustard flowers blooming.”

And I see a tear,
glistening on the thin treads
of nostalgia
and then, I tenderly wipe them off
with a flower petal.
“Those mustards which bloomed with the shades
of sunlit stars.”
One flower petal
and in the depths of Grandma’s eyes
I saw mustard flowers
still blooming.

One Response to “Threads of Nostalgia”

  • Hollie

    It is full of description and makes u imagine what those people would have felt at that time and how they reacted. Really brilliant and I loved it!

    Reply
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