Thursday, June 25, 2009
Immersed in the 8 am sun,
She knelt before a futon by the window.
On a drawing book that was spread open,
She doodled on with her colorful wax crayons.
Bent over the book and biting her lower lip,
She generously splurged her imagination.
And crayoned the page from plain to vibrant
Adding strokes of yellow, red, blue and dashes of brown;
Her Dad, lolled on the couch, with the morning tabloid;
Glanced at her folding one of the sheet’s corners.
He smiled gently with a sense of pride,
As he saw his most adorable lass look really occupied.
Lifting the book above her head she walked up to Dad.
Balancing on her toes carefully, like a Ballerina,
She tried hard to look beyond the paper.
“Daddy, look what I drew” she sang to a cheerful tune.
Folding the paper aside he lifted her and put her by his side.
With tiny hands she held the big drawing book,
And placed it on her lap neatly
To show her dad what she drew.
Tanned shores with an aquamarine sea by its side.
A cerulean sky with a lustrous sun;
A few abstract images sat on either side.
And amid the calm sea lay another burning sun.
“What’s this Ammu?” asked Dad looking amused by her skill.
Ammu replied in spontaneity pointing at every object on the sheet.
“This is sun. This is sea. This is you and brother, watching lil ducks swim.
You’re sitting here like everyday, after taking a walk on the beach.”
Kissed her forehead and appreciated her with a tender hug.
He thought she had erred by drawing another sun in the sea,
“Everything is fine Ammu, but why another sun?”
Without thinking twice he asked her humorously.
“Oh! Remember the last time we went to see the sunrise? “
Saying this she pointed towards the window.
“One sun came up on the sky” now she gently swallowed
And said “and another came along, on the sea beneath.”
PS: Inspired by a true incident and doodle
Thursday, June 11, 2009
I tread, I leap,
I seldom rest.
I wisp, I rush,
I never swoon.
I swirl, I swoop,
Yet I rarely fall.
I’ve made it to places,
Least known to the sun.
Roads or routes make no sense.
An alien to destinations,
I’ve followed not
A single course.
I’ve skimmed the compass
Across the wide open.
Ignored man-made maps
And kicked the milestones' rumps;
That set limits.
And defy possibilities.
A captive or a resident,
In the human frame.
Escape is certain
But what’s left behind
Are just perishable remains.
Try, if you may
To chain this renegade.
I embrace freedom, as you exhale.