Memories-An old poem

In a old dusty cupboards,
Forgotten memories lay
The remnants of a distant past,
All packed out of way

With a distant scent of nostaligia,
I opened the attic door.
Oh! what would I find there
In that antique store

Old albums and photos rare,
half destroyed by damp
Books that once I never kept down,
Now with dusty book worm stamp

Old dolls with broken limbs
And dresses worn and torn,
Those well dressed toys of yore,
Thrown away in scorn

I scanvenged through the rubble ,
remembering the days old,
The hand made greetings cards,
The badge of secret society bold

Letters that the postman brought,
postcards and inlands blue,
Satin ribbons and knitting,
threads of every hue,

Hobbies started , abandoned,
Playthings I outgrew,
All were stored and safe
Stacked out of view

As I put everything back,
It brought back a smile
These memories of mine,
Would stay with me a while

Monsoon Begins in Kerala and it Rains in Minneapolis

Every year, unfailingly , the monsoon reaches Kerala on the 1st of June. It never ceases to amaze me how rain can metamorphosis the very landscape of a dry parched hot landscape. The smell of fresh wet mud is intoxicating. The earth adorns herself in bright greens after throwing away the drab browns. As I was getting lost in the dreams of a green , wet Kerala monsoon, I glanced out of my office and found that it was raining heavily here too..in Minneapolis.In fact hail stones were falling down and melting into rain water forming puddles in the concrete sidewalks.Thunder rumbled and and lightening flashed. I was delighted. suddenly it did not matter that I did not have an umbrella and would probably get wet on the way home. Rain had made my day.