YET THE MEMORY STAYS……

While my grandma was alive,
I had seen her opening a
box rectangular in size
bluish in colour opening
once in a while
stealthily taking out a beautifully
woven multi-coloured bag
a cap and well-stitched
olive-green uniform
her eyes going wet
looking around
all I noticed
and even felt the scent
emanating out of it
hiding under a cot
inside the room
she couldn’t espy me.
Why her eyes welled-up
while keeping a close watch
on the glittering multi-coloured
beautifully woven bag, the
fascinating olive-green uniform
and the
attractive little cap.
I never inquired Grandma about
them
lest it should hurt her
neither did she tell me
about them
but I was sure,
a story lay behind it.
Grandma died keeping it
a secret to herself
I felt pained and I cried
with her bidding
farewell to the nether world.
Later my auntie one day
happened to open the box
took out the bag, cap
and little uniform.
Her eyes also went wet
I went near her
inquired her the story behind
keeping
it inside the box
like an antique property.
Hesitated for a while
she looked straight into
my enthusiastic eyes
her eyes glistened
caressed me and unraveled
the hidden story behind
the three fascinating
attractive properties.
Taken by shock and surprise
I stood motionless for a
while
she told me about my
eldest uncle
who had to flee the house
before I was born
as the police was
following him
for getting involved in a
banned revolutionary party.
A loving and caring heart
he kept always
simultaneously had a
hot-tempered nature
with flames of revolutionary
spirit in eyes.
Following Grandma’s advice
he fled to the distant
city
where he got involved in
a murder case
and went hiding and
that was that.
Never did he come back
but my middle uncle
getting to know about his
hiding place
stealthily visited him
but never did he agree to
come back.
That day my eldest uncle
bought a beautifully woven
multi-coloured bag, cap
and olive-green uniform
and entrusted
it with my middle uncle
which he upon return
kept inside the
rectangular box
for the little baby
myself.
Grandma died with the
thoughts of her eldest son
till the last breath
her life had already
turned melancholical
drawn into herself.
One day my little uncle
who remained a rebel
in his younger days
took out the bag, cap
and uniform and
donated them to a passer-by
while myself
standing a mute
an helpless witness, tears covering
my eyes.