29 August, 2014

My Dawn

Give me a few moments at dawn
To soak in the powder pale skies
To feel the soft winds torn
From the wings of the bird which flies
To stand with my elbows at rest
On the dusty black balcony grill
To have the power to resist
The desire to grab a few winks still
To feel one with the soft flutter
Of the leaves of the newborn tree
To be able to hear the mutter
Of the pigeon setting its wings free
To count the windows in the tall towers
Which have  yellow light streaming out
To feel the softness of the dew showers
On the petals of colours I can't make out
Give me a few minutes at dawn
To sip a tepid cup of tea
Away from the work ridden world forlorn
Oh ! Please make me feel free.

01 August, 2014

The lollipop kid

At the grocery,  I waited, as the line at the cashier crawled. The evening had brought in a collage of people together. I feast on such sights, my hyperactive mind preying on people and their interactions, trying to glean tidbids from their lives. Momentarily,  I am a part of so many stories. I become one with the mom who chides her little girl, the newly weds who walk with entwined fingers.
The sly old woman who breaks the queue, using her old age to her advantage, irks me but interests me nevertheless.
My attention is drawn to a toddler playing with the string of lollipos hanging near the chips stand. Suddenly without any warning his breaks out into an incomprehensible, high pitched baby babble. Fat tears roll on to pink cheeks defying gravity and settling there without falling.
The trouble is easy enough to assume, he wants the lollipops.
Caught unaware is the toddler's little sister who must have been left in charge as the parents shopped. She looks discomfited and apologetic at the same time. Her eyes search the throbbing aisles of the shop in desperation,  yet she hushes her little brother and tries to calm him down. Her face looks helpless and guilty all at once. My heart goesout to her.
It led me to question, if girls are genetically programmed to be carers. The little girl was no more than 5, yet not once did she lose patience, not once did she go running to look for her parents. She accepted the tantrum of her brother. Tried to make the best of the situation by soothing him. Felt guilty for no fault of hers. Apologised to all the people around by  looking around and smiling weakly. Responsible and caring, she displayed a maturity level much beyond her age.
What amazed me more, was that she neither complained nor asked for a lollipop herself when her hassled parents arrived.
If I had a crown , I would have put it on her curly head there and then.  She was 'My everyday queen '.

Constant