I still remember that cold morning in winter;
The chilly breeze,chirping of birds;
The "thud" sound of chopping woods for fire;
The irritating noise of handloom from neighbour;
The sight of sunrise reflected on rippled waters.
The fog covered mountain;
the old songs on morning radio;
The drying of blankets in sun;
Cats lying lazily in the sun;
the unusual cry of a child.
Memories reverberate like that of an electric -
wire swinging as the bird sitting on it flew away.
Nostalgia has no limit,loneliness seems to have lost its religion.
N.B. Written on a cold winter morning in Manipur
