Dear Friends,

When I was a youthful teen, one day, my granny, who simply loved going for evening walks, did not return home even after sunset. My  parents were anxious but did not know where to locate her in the hills and jungle. My father and his friends started searching for her. My granny herself did not know what to do and where to go. A vegetable vendor who knew my granny, found her sitting on the road side and dropped her home. It was only after this incident  that she got  detected for Alzheimer . This poem is dedicated to all the  grannies of the world, who are waiting for an  amorous and serving hand.

 Ms.Meena Mishra

Granny Gone Astray in Woods

An elderly lady with a craggy face,

Careworn to obtain her hair in place.

Probing her way back home,

Pushing the undergrowth aside,

Trying  to get herself out of that hide.

She could  sense the sun moving towards West,

As the vanishing heat stroke her yellow dress .

 With a stick in her hand , crossing the bridge,

Making her  way towards the ridge.

But lo! How gloomy is she!

She has reached the river bank  now ,

Trying to retrieve her memory somehow .

Utterly elapsed about her destination ,

What is she going to do in such a condition?

Staggering  towards the roadside,

 she is trying   to evoke,

When was the last time, a loved one spoke?

Where was she born? Where was she raised?

When was she scolded ? When was she praised?

Not a single statement is written on the slate.

How and when did it get erased?

Waiting there in mystification,

 With soreness, she cried out.

Someone should loom and assist her move out.

She desires an assertion that her waiting would bear fruit,

She would be cuddled by  the tree, of which she is the root.