Foothills

By Nandhini Senthil Kumar

Away, in a faraway town

Strewn on beds of grass

An unfamiliar sky glazing my eye

Drifts my mind, in smiling recollection.

With a warm heart I pen

A birthplace written in nostalgic ink

Quiet hamlets at the foothills

Of Thevengurunji, against the setting sun.

Meandering roads past deep green

Dotted with squashed neem fruit

Etch belonging in my depths

Under a cloud kissed azure.

In my grandparents’ garden,

The pomegranate tree waltzes

To the birdsong of mynah, that

Holds stories untold in blissful simplicity.

Though simple as such

Here we speak and learn the oldest tongue

The melodic complexities

And subtle notes of Tamil.

The earthy zephyr carries

Whispers of tales from temple doors

Deities nestled in belief, in heart

Guarding doorsteps for generations.

Countless memories, my heart

Reminisces, of grandma’s bedtime stories

The teacher in her whose zest lives

In every word of thoughtful nights.

My mind holds pictures

Of the grandfather

Whose creativity unfurls undying

Transforming nothingness to gold.

Of another, a teacher of Tamil

Running businesses even at 73

A hopeful shine, even bygone years

Couldn’t dream to steal.

And yet another,

A grandmother and grandfather

Whose tending and toil for beloved fields

Keeps food on distant plates.

Here, in homely streets

Lives the childhood

Of them who gifted

My life’s first breath.

Where the jungle fowl chases dawn

And sleep draws curtains when

The clock beckons dusk

There sways a silent ocean of love.

Love, that never ebbs

Eyes heavy with experience

Hearts one with the soil,

Their rugged yet elegant beauty.

Where minds are deemed common

Lie dreams that transcend

Nonexistent lines of impossibility

And live forever as hidden gems.

Ceremonies hold laughter

And pomp, yet rests

On backdrops of history

And eternal tradition.

On this red earth, there lives

The footsteps of ancestors

Remembered forevermore

For courage in their goal for the people.

The mark of generations

Breathes morals

Those fading slowly today

Passed down with careful preservation.

The revving of the village motorbike

And wafting aroma of parotta stoves

Gleam in my memory

Of my hometown.

No matter where I go

Exquisite hotels and modern cities

Remain forever second

To the tranquility of the home I pen.

Forever and ever

It is the roots of my being

The pebble in the ocean

My first home.

Coconut tree silhouettes

Against pink sunsets

Even time seems to linger by

Watching memories unfold, with love.

And so, in quiet hamlets

At the foothills of Thevengurunji

Memories replay ad infinitum

A birthplace written in nostalgic ink.

By Nandhini Senthil Kumar