Idling Around
Starry Nights
I have often been fascinated by stars. Often I have tried to look up and figure out constellations, like those neatly drawn by Annie. I take a look at the paper in which constellations are drawn, the torch light hits lightly on the worn out paper. The next thing I do is swing my hand up and try to find the sapta rishi , in the light of my pen torch. And I laugh.
In my laughter, Papa's laugh rings in.
daddy dearest,
your little girl, is still little
so keep your shoulders strong
and take her for a piggy ride
when she comes home !
Rhymes
Whenever I see little kids, I think of rhymes. What were the rhymes that I sung when I was a kid. What were the poems, daddy taught us? I wonder, and I close my eyes and I see lovely little kids rushing home to mumma and daddy.
Utsho
There is a little boy I was meaning to talk about. His name is Utsho. He is slightly different from other little boys that I have met. Shy, recluse and intelligent looking boy. He will chant Gayatri Mantra, and he is just four. Instead of dolls, he will put Radha Krishna on his swing and play with Gods. And he calls me Aunty.
He reminds me of someone... Of Annie perhaps. the little four year old, reminds me of Annie. Sometimes in life you make a friend, you can be friends with... like a person to person.
like Annie to Vid, or may be like Utsho to Aunty!
3 comments:
u r gonna be 1 gr8 writer. all da best.
A stranger came to the door at eve,
And he spoke the bridegroom fair.
He bore a green-white stick in his hand,
And, for all burden, care.
He asked with the eyes more than the lips
For a shelter for the night,
And he turned and looked at the road afar
Without a window light.
The bridegroom came forth into the porch
With, 'Let us look at the sky,
And question what of the night to be,
Stranger, you and I.'
The woodbine leaves littered the yard,
The woodbine berries were blue,
Autumn, yes, winter was in the wind;
'Stranger, I wish I knew.'
Within, the bride in the dusk alone
Bent over the open fire,
Her face rose-red with the glowing coal
And the thought of the heart's desire.
The bridegroom looked at the weary road,
Yet saw but her within,
And wished her heart in a case of gold
And pinned with a silver pin.
The bridegroom thought it little to give
A dole of bread, a purse,
A heartfelt prayer for the poor of God,
Or for the rich a curse;
But whether or not a man was asked
To mar the love of two
By harboring woe in the bridal house,
The bridegroom wished he knew.
- Love and a Question (by Robert Frost)
Robert Frost!
Thank you for the leaving behind a poetry... hmmm I am still trying to dwelve in the verses to get a feel of what Frost is trying to say... mind sharing a few more thoughts Annie dear!
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