Pinned Up Pictures

By Prathishta Diwakar

The sunlight filters through the cracks

Strips of gold on tarnished walls

Illuminating the pictures I pinned up

Interspersed with lazy scrawls.

I move closer, caressing each one tenderly

Each picture holding a million stories.

The edges are frayed, parchment yellowed

But priceless, this montage of memories.

I can hear the laughter through them,

The feel of his hand in mine,

The salty breeze hitting our faces

Gazing at the sun on the coastline.

Has it only been six fleeting years?

Since I made this room my home,

Since that first shaky step I took

Into the abyss of adulthood, everything unknown.

Pulling off the pictures one by one

I put them in a box with a sigh,

My home was once again just a room

As with a heavy heart, I bid goodbye.

By Prathishta Diwakar