Swoshed by awaits in a flowery bus-stand,
Adjusting the wave-curls over my forehead,
A golden child appeared in slow trudges looking,
More golden by Sunrays yet to reach clouds overhead.
Father dragged the cart, cracking silly jokes to,
A mummy giggling from stories of their childhood,
Looking at little Sunshine in cement-sprinkled clothes,
Giggle at the joke she neither followed nor understood.
She glanced back in sudden startlement,
As the gushing wind dragged away my long black hair,
Her stare made me feel special and pretty,
Reminded me how I admired charming ladies tall and fair.
She passed away and her stare warmed to a smile and,
Through the dewy leaves, little eyes flickered and beamed,
Mummy followed her little gaze and smiled back too,
The promise of a happy family for the first time, it seemed.
The bus came and I couldn’t stay, they couldn’t stay either
They trudged along, parting the veil of smoke and smog,
A happiness cartload, invisible to the world crying everyday,
See it, feel it, it exists for real, and not just in my monologue.
— By Miss Nilanjana Haldar