There was the old niwar bed from my childhood,
I saw it yesterday while calling back home,

While growing up, when we were still kids,
Two single beds, my grandparents had,
A room right in front of the main door,
In the middle of our house,
My Baba was taking care of my brother,
And I was supposed to be with my granny,

And we had so many stories to share,
The new friend we made, the homework not done,
And everything else,
So, we would sleep on the sides of each,
And usually fell asleep fighting or laughing about something,

When I was ten,
My other brother was born,
My aunt and this new kiddo guy,
Stayed with granny and me,

And yesterday,
Looking at that same niwar bed,
And my kiddo brother is all grown up now,
I just remembered so many memories,
So many stories that niwar has carefully threaded and kept,

We shifted the bed into another room,
There were too many memories, and granny had,
With Baba in that earlier room,
So when he passed away,
Granny started living in this new room,
And we just donated his bed,
But this other bed,
Mine and granny’s stayed,
We both stayed,
Granny with so many of Baba’s memories with her,
And then another bed, preserving half of the history shared!