Dew Drops Slowly and Dreams gather...

Rummaging through the closet of memories for that familiar, old smell;

For the dog-eared pages from that book of experience;

For the carefully kept wrappers of those gifted smiles;

For the inked words in the dry Chelpark bottle;

For the forgotten taste of Parle Poppins and 'khatta-meetha churan';

For those winter nights that roasted green-peas and potatoes in the bonfire;

For those summer afternoons that waited anxiously for the ice-cream wallah's cart;

For the age gone-by and the world long-lost...