Garden of Memories

I miss my garden,
With the beautiful leaves of the patabahar, a painted plate of gold and green,
The round, fuzzy balls of kadomful, like the down of a baby chick,
The deep pink of the kagojful (paper flowers) tissue papers of beauty,
The aparajito (the unvanquished), vines creeping over the gate, navy-blue messenger of welcome and endurance,
Necklaces of orange-white shiuli, fallen flowers of fragrance,
The bakul with the bird's nest enclosed in its warm embrace,
The daleem (pomegranate) with bright shiny jewels of tangy-sweet red flavor,
The henna tree with its patterns of slender dancing leaves,



The lojjaboti, shy maiden of memory
The achar, perfect green chunks of edible chutney, made with loving hands of my caretaker,

my Shona Beti,
The child am gach (mango tree), bearing a few juicy, mouth-watering fruits in loving care,
Even the prickly, harsh cactus,
I miss them all, my friends and sentries of the past,
My garden of memories.