For he is a jolly round fellow

Pardon the ramblings of an fickle mind🤗

Without sounding biased or judgemental and without any intention of hurting sentiments, I wish to put forward an observation...
" Rotund people are usually jolly"

There are two guards at my school's parking lot. A round one and a not so round one. The round one is the smiley fellow and the not so round one doesn't smile. I have greeted both with equal cheerfullness everyday, but recieved contrasting responses. This is what has launched the line of thought during a few wasteful hours.

The round Buddha is the laughing budhha while the thinner version is all calm and serene.
We too feel like laughing at the roly polys and never at the well chiselled out people. Maybe the roly polys have developed a defense mechanism of laughing back ?

For the Enid Blyton fans , a comparison of both the mam' zelles in Malory Towers is a case in point. So is the insanely funny 'Po' from Kung fu Panda.

I guess I am a bit defensive myself , being of the 'rotund jolly' category, but isn't it 'food' for thought ? 😁😁😁

A Different Valentine

February, 14th, Delhi,
The traffic crawls ahead.
I find myself surrounded
By a brillaint sea of red

Red balloons,
with ribbons trailing
Bunch of roses
With tassle detailing

Boy in red jacket
With sheepish pride
Holding the red clad
Girl by his side

Happy faces,
Turned to each other
Lowered eyes gently
Looking into another

I turn a trafficked corner
Onto a busy street
Only to be greeted
By a visual treat

A destitute woman
Homeless with her man,
Pulls him along
As fast as she can

They are not in red
No balloon or gift
Clothes are tattered,
Hair is adrift.

But that same look
In their lowered eyes
Catches my breath
With a surprise

The love is the same
Subtly expressed
In the entwined fingers
Gently pressed

Destitute, deranged
With not much to show
Yet they loved each other
I came to know.

-Piyu

Weeds and Roses

The other day, I called the florist to deliver some flowers. The roses, lilies, chrysanthemums arrived soon, packed in tissues and ribbons. I sat with my vases , water and scissors and got down to arranging them.
Hidden among the pretty blooms, the florist had sent some weeds. Bushy green stems with nondescript tiny white flowers. Maybe he wanted to add volume, maybe he felt they would complement the roses...I don't know what he thought, but the weeds just sat there on my bench, messing up the beautiful array of flowers.
Overcome with distaste, I picked up the lot and stuffed them down the bin. The ungainly white flowers looked up sadly as I closed the lid of the dustbin on them.

Later in the day, I was filled with remorse, those weeds were flowers too. Maybe not as pretty as the roses or lilies, but nevertheless, beautiful in their own way. I rushed to check if I could salvage them from the bin...But they had wilted by then. I was sad for a long time.

As a teacher, I know that not every child is at par. Some are the roses and lilies of the class, shining bright, doing well in all fields. But some are the weeds, not so good at anything, but lovely kids nevertheless. How hasty we are at times to shun them and relegate them to the background. By the time we realise our mistake, their self worth has wilted.

Spare a thought for the average and the mediocre. Most of us would be roses in the field of our choice but merely a weedy flower in all other walks of life.....