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Sunday Wordsmiths By Aparna Mandal

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Who lives to tell a story
Many or not so many
Stories converge
The gathering of events
The past, the present
Eyes tell stories
So do hands
Walls, bags, tickets, towels
All have stories
A room is alive
So is my heart
As my pots and pans burn on the flame
My mind simmers with stories
Of days bygone, of days to come
The hearth is warm
Cold are the hands
Colder are the hearts
All have stories to tell
Stories to suppress
And stories to retell.
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