She stood there,

Like an old woman with concave lips

Like an old banyan that spreads its

arms wider and roots deeper

Like that rock by the roadside that

weathers but waits for you

To take a breather and rest.

The ruffling leaves echoing a friend’s laughter

The swish in the air bringing the scent of a

childhood that lingers in your senses

Any new face, new facade seems a

trespasser in your land.

This talking street

Tells many a tale

Of the years gone by

This talking street,

Always at her best

Even when you visit her


This talking street

She holds a fistful of memories

That cascade like a conversation

As she opens her palm

This talking street,

She stands there

Like an old woman with concave lips

Breaking into a smile as she meets an old

Friend in you.

This talking street

she waits  with baited breath

for that enchanted moment

if only an illusion

to be with you

This talking street…

Vaishali Shroff is a freelance writer, editor, columnist, and runs a reading club ( for children in Pune. Her work has been published in over 10 titles of the Chicken Soup India Series, her children’s stories can be read at smories ( and she can’t wait for her first children’s book to be out.