Right from the smell of petrichor on its collision with the earth,
to the chatter of the streets and the misty haze of the sidewalks,
I imagined your memory.
I imagine you, a little boy enslaved in the body of a man, as he guides his niece down a memory, hauntingly familiar.
I see you in awe of her naivety and innocence, carefully observant of its coarse,
a strange joy conceives a moment, ignorant of consequence
muddy sandals, dripping toes, the tips of her pants soaked,
all five of her fingers manage their way round one of yours.
You yearned for the youth age deceived you was absent,
and watched the wisdom laced in her broken vocabulary
you loved her a little more,
when you saw yourself in her blithe.
Author’s Note: As a child, my uncle told me a story of how I taught him the simple pleasures of life by the act of walking into every puddle in my path, as his adult instinct made him walk around. On being asked why I would voluntarily insist on getting my sandals and pants slushy, I told him it was just because it is fun and that he should try it. This poem is an attempt to imagine what he admired about me, and how that could be a dormant part of him.
Keya Gangoly
Author
Keya Gangoly is a student of class 12 at a school in Bangalore. A student of literature, Keya has a strong inclination towards poetry. The above poem reminds us of that special adult most of us are blessed to have in our lives.
Skanda Subrahmanya
Illustrator
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