Thursday, November 24, 2011

I carry ghosts in my bag

I carry ghosts in my bag
Of people I once knew
And loved
Some long forgotten and others still fresh
Like that tiny drop of morning dew on a single blade of grass

Now and then they raise their heads
That dry wild flower with strains of the perfume I never liked
That little ‘kerchief, the colour of which I never fancied
That wooden pen from Ooty I never wrote with
And they tease me into a smile

I carry ghosts in my bag.

Photo courtesy: phoenikhs


  1. I LOVE this.. It is how I feel about absolutely everything I own.. All just ghosts :)