Which stood tall on the street
It was three storyed they say
In the beautiful valley
It had an attic
Which overlooked the entire street
The family loved sitting here in winters
Keeping an eye on the street
While relishing apples with walnuts
Three generations lived here
Aunts and uncles
Sisters and brothers
Nephews and nieces
There was a sour cherry tree
In the courtyard
Dad climbed the tree and threw them down
My sister stretched her frock to catch them
A tangy chutney used to be made
Which could be eaten with just plain rice
That's what they say
If I close my eyes and concentrate
I can almost taste the tartness
In winters the home diety was revered
A day specifically to feed the gods
Spicy fish and rice
Gods visit each home and protect it
Unrest and destruction
Had found its way into the valley
In the dark of the morning
Occupants of the house fled
Never to return again
My generation never got to see that house
Or catch and taste the sour cherries
We did not grow up with three generations
But we keep feeding the gods
We carry a piece of valley with us
I have my own image of that house
The one I never saw
I wonder if it still stands tall on the street?
:'( my heart strings breaks :(
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