Witness to Ages: The Town

The streets bore the history of ages
The houses bore the stories of families of who were considered different
The trees were the silent life, witnessing the cruelties and happiness of ages
People looked different from the rest

Even in the midst of the differences
You could see the beauty rising in between
The pride, the architecture carried in them
The beauty of the trees, which stood as silent witnesses of life, as centuries passed by
The community which grew as a mixture of different cultures
Was unique as the colors in the rainbow

The languages spoken were different and unique
Which would make you wonder?
When God divided the people, by changing the languages they spoke
Was it the same little town..
Only that they didn’t move away because of their linguistic difference
But shared what was left from the ages

The sea added beauty to the old little town
The mansions and the bungalows faced the waves on beach,
Stood there silently as witness to the turn of the century
The seagulls circling the Chinese nets, to feast on the fishes
And the little canoes being brushed against the waves
The sea stretched itself as a blue lining necklace to the little town

And when the evening dawned,
The place would be covered with the dark blue blanket with stars sparkling
And the sound of waves on the shore, would grow loud
And the smell of the sea weeds on the shore
The cemeteries of the reminiscent past are seen in soft moon light
And the chuckles of the kids from far off, can be heard

This town may stand as a pole held high to the people
As a token from history
But to me, it would be a place called HOME
Where I would run back to, when I am scared, for safety
Because the town gave you a feeling that
This is HOME, “Everything is going to be ok”