History of the socks

History of age old socks.... Torn pieces of age old socks, Like strewn feathers on backyards of dirty remote markets, The old torn socks, Now,non existent but it's age old threads limbing at the mercy of the winds..... My grandmother father before loosing his eye sight said, It's our heritage before we reached at the top most step of the ladder..... Later,my father in dreams appeared and told; It's the only witness before my head become bald...... The age old torn socks and it's shrivelled threads, As a babe stepping down from the cradle, Limbing towards me ..... Further , rotating time continued giving wars, landslides, emotionally glittering histories, I Now ,the age old, Looking at an innocent woman , Nay, Looking at a foregone culture.... But, Before me, wrinkled nakedness enviously, Strolling towards the limbing threads of the socks.... I am Also an onlooker Towards the woman hesitate to step down from the ladder... (C) Ravindranath kunnath Kochi, Kerala, India