O! Memory lane
You proudly stand
Hidden amidst
A mystical land
Footprints in time
Shifting like sand
Growing with me
Hand in hand
Too obscure
To understand

Cross-roads
And boulevards
Lined with faces
Soft and hard
Voices, whispers
Old town bards
Sharing glimpses
All bits and shards
Scattered like
A house of cards

Jumbled alleys
Bright and dark
Upon itself
A twisted arc
Images faded
Visions stark
All impressions
Leave a mark
Waiting for
A fresh spark

Window-fronts
Far and near
Frosted some
Some crystal clear
Withered flowers
Murmurs I hear
Nightmares in jars
Laced with fear
Buckets of hope
Which I hold dear

Excess baggage
Just strewn across
And crystal balls
Enshrouded in moss
I pick one up
Shining with gloss
Peering at me
An albatross
Witness to love
But not to loss

Forgotten toys
Broken masts
Unrequited love
Shattered hearts
Dreams and wants
All torn apart
Whizzing by
In blurred go-carts
Where to stop
Where to start

– Yousuf Bawany, June ’16

Note: ‘Memories Lane’ is a place we frequent more and more often as we grow older. It is not just to see how far we’ve come, but also to reflect on our glorious past; the perfect place to lose yourself irrespective of your reasons to reminisce. Needless to say, it is filled with conflicting emotions, where chaos rules, impressions fade over time and newer memories replace the jaded. 

I tried to picture how ‘Memory Lane’ would look like if it were a real place. What I conjured up was something happy, something sad, something sane, something mad; really a mixed bag. I thought if I could put it into words, how would it look like? Would it make any sense or just end up looking like a random, unrelated string of words? You decide!

Constructive criticism is appreciated. Enjoy!

p.s. This photo shows Shakespeare’s backyard as it stands today in the heart of Stratford-upon-Avon, UK.