Painted in white ,
moonlight made it even more bright.
The so called ‘Do talla’ mansion.
You are right, the sight,
dubbed as white house.
The tallest amongst the short.
The most well known through out.
Interior , was a big courtyard,
the floor coloured in pale red.
Sat my Grandma, in saree white,
on an armchair, near the round pillar.
Rooms in all it’s sides was remarkable,
with as many house help,
more than the numbers of members itself.
Backyard had cows in many.
Labors in numbers,
Did not fit to count on fingers.
Fame ,name , the king size life.
Afforded and aided, who strived.
The house kitchen,
with perfect condiments.
When meals on punctilious time was served.
The open terrace ,was a grace.
To often dine together.
Especially, on home coming of the visitors.
The big entrance gate,
opened like the king’s door.
The iron grills protected the old house,
the town was known before.
When a single barber’s visit on weekend,
to trim each ones hair on trend.
When the family doctor’s visit,
to check whoever is there ,instant.
Spectacular sight on Diwali,
when every corner was lit , of the haweli.
An open space for Holi,
The ground formed a colorful Rangoli.
The old house ,demolished now.
Replaced with a fine architecture,
to move ahead , for future.
But, it haunts me still,
the memories fades until.