Cleaning up
my attic the other day
I chance
upon some empty bottles.
From the
fading, moth-eaten labels
I read the
names; Glenfiddich, Glenmorangie
Jack
Daniels, Jameson, Johnny Walker, Chivas Regal
Old Putney,
Old Smuggler and a few others –
And there! My
eternal favourite, Glenlivet!
Gifts from
old friends, none I could afford.
I pull out
the corks, twist open the caps and
Breathe in,
deeply, the exquisite fragrance
Look
lovingly at the traces of golden liquid, the dregs
Languishing
at the bottom.
Life, as
you get old, is like a near- empty
Bottle of
Single Malt
Carrying
the haloed memories
Of happiness,
of abandon
Of gaiety
and camaraderie.
Life, the
elders would know,
Is all
about remembering the smells,
The sights
and sounds of the past.
In the
fading light, I smile to myself
Ruefully.
Yet - I am
happy
That I had
once tasted good things
That I
could recollect and rejoice now
Though,
they are just memories.
************ Balachandran V, Trivandrum 07-10-2014
