The hazy changing portraits
Sitting and holding the window grills,
A slow airy wave took a long time to pass,
And with the flick of the eyes,
Innumerable hazy portraits didn’t long last.
An innocent smiling face within a short figure,
Holding a toy, the kid smiled,
He gazed and gazed and all at a sudden,
Towards the field, I saw a running child.
I had seen him somewhere, I thought!
The same smiling kid! I remember,
But, he was holding a tiny glass of milk,
And asking for a spoon of chocolate sugar.
After having the brown milk, he went out,
But, beyond the door! I could see,
Someone cycling in his white uniform,
And the school was then over at three.
Oh! The laughter of the boy there,
Was much similar to that playground smile,
Cycling home, he closed the empty room’s door; But
An elder boy came out after a while.
Hazy! But the face was known,
He went with few people, who seemed known too,
And! Who could be that now?
Staring at the water waves, down the sky blue.
Suddenly, that boy was coming near to me,
And within few seconds, I was still;
To find again, the tiny kid with the toy,
Sitting and laughing loud beyond the window grill.
All at a sudden, his loud laughter’s voice,
Rested, as tears on my hands,
And my wet eyes woke me up at a sudden; to show,
Past and the present; the grill was the difference...
- Abhishek Kabra