AND then our STORY began: a childhood love under a jamun tree

The jamun tree

Beneath that jamun tree

our story began

in the backyard of your house,

listening to your endless stories

while busy narrating my own ones,

in those shared moments of

innocence and laughter,

waiting for the bell to ring

to measure our way back home,

weighed down with school bags

yet with a host of unforgettable secrets

inside our lunch boxes and sharpeners.

Unkempt and unbothered,

our story walked through

lanes of months and years,

through quarrels and cajoling,

dumbsharads and postcards.

You travelled the globe

as I travelled my world:

you found beauties in places undisclosed,

I perceived magic in familiarity.

leaves of love

And when we met again,

no longer the children we once were,

years and spaces got entwined in between

my feminine urge and your muscular form:

our story got inscribed on the sky

with words and ink of the Divine.

That unbridled laughter gave way to

stolen glances and uncertain smiles,

my eyes betrayed what I tried to hide.

When your fingers slipped gently into mine

I curled my toes, held my breath

as you came closer to me

AND then our STORY began again

sitting under that very jamun tree

as the dusk silently dawned in the

backyard of your house...

By Nandini Sengupta

@metaphors_of_life