For everyone here who has spun acorns & collected tiny branches
I received an invite from an old friend,
Who I had not met in years.
Recollection was hazy,
Even his full name was faded.
But felt good to know that he still remembers me.
It was a pale yellow envelope,
With a colorful stamp of a single tree.
I looked closely, and let out a smile.
All memories came through the window,
Raindrops trickling & making sounds on the tin roof.
Children running & screaming,
Collecting acorns of different shapes,
To spin & win toffee bets.
The back of my neck was turning cold,
With the arm of this friend,
Wrapped like a muffler saving me from this sudden chill.
As dusk sets in, I am reminded of our endless chatter,
Of lazy mild evenings,
Creating stories & sharing fantasies without worry of reality.
I opened the invitation to find it addressed to my nickname,
And I knew, it was an invitation to spin some acorns.
– Kanishka Mallick (1996 Batch)
1990s Kanishka Mallick Poetry