PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Sitting idly with the sunset on this 26th day of August of 2007....the mind went back...down the memory lane to a late winter day of 2000............

........I was looking very beautiful. I had shaven after so many days and had shampooed my hair. My face looked thinner than some of the earlier years, giving an illusion of youth. The black-cream jersey made my complexion look fairer and a few people complimented me. It was a nice feeling to see that I still attracted attention on the road. It was an exceptional day. Some of the old glory flashed for some time. Many images of the past came floating by and I could not help smiling at them. In thought, there are no barriers of time and age and circumstance.

*

Later in the evening, my daughter insisted for a story and I told her about the cap-seller……When the cap-seller woke up, he was very sad to see all his caps stolen. All the monkeys teased and danced in front of him, making funny faces....The cap-seller threw down the cap that he was wearing and the monkeys followed suit. The naughty monkeys had to cut a sorry figure.....

*

It was little after the story time and I had begun to slip into the oblivion of sleep when I was brought back to consciousness by a slap to realize that she was perhaps seeing an action-packed monkey dream and it seemed that she had just slapped a miscreant one. Now, her tiny hand was in my left hand and her small, cold feet were hidden between my legs. Her face was calm and beautiful…and envious.

The whole day, she used to be after me….Why are the trees green, where does the moon go in the day, from where does the breeze come, where do the kittens go to read.....

She would watch a wedding scene on TV and would want to get married. I asked her, “Where is the groom?” and she would say, “I will marry you, papa” and blush. She knew even then that one is supposed to be a bit demure while talking of marriage!!! She wanted to have all the shining clothes and make-up and lip-stick. “Why do you want to marry me?” I would ask and she would say that she would wash my handkerchiefs and press my forehead when it aches. Yes, she loved the only man in her small, little life thus far: Me.

*

Today, she has grown up and asks me about yoga and hockey. She plays the Sitar and participates in elocutions and debates, swims perfectly and learns Karate....and still asks for suggestions for making up with a friend.

Tomorrow, she will be into perfumes and make-up and higher education....then into a career and a family of her own. Will I be too old and out-of-date for her by that time...See, the mind has jumped ahead. It is the biggest monkey of all.

Anyway, no matter what tomorrow brings, I will always remember the butterfly kisses.