A grand old house, a bygone era's grace,
Where time stood still in every hallowed space.
Intricate iron, a graceful dance,
A testament to bygone romance.
I'd sit and watch the world go by,
A simple joy, beneath the sky.
Through wrought-iron arches, a garden's gleam,
Where childhood dreams took flight, a verdant dream.
The walls adorned with portraits, faded yet bright,
Captured moments of youth, pure and light.
Ancestors' eyes, wise and serene,
Gazing upon the past, a timeless scene.
Tagore's visage, a poet's soul,
And goddess figurines, stories untold.
The winding stair, a grand and regal sight,
Led to a hidden world, bathed in twilight.
A storeroom's depths, a treasure trove,
A forgotten...