Poems

Shooting star

A hyperactive little boy Boarded the train,
With an air that made me wonder if he owned it.
He skipped about from one end of the aisle to the other,
Nonchalant about his father’s chiding.
The animated child seemed to have an inherent need
To be certain,
That everybody within a twenty meter radius,
Was his friend.
His high-strung spirit broke my concentration
On the book I was engrossed in
And I turned my attention to him.
“I am red spider-man.” he declared,
“You are brown spider-man” he said,
Robbing my chance to introduce myself.
“And she is white spider-man” he continued
Pointing his tiny finger
At my sister, who was dressed in white.
Now, that we were acquaintances,
He convinced his mother to show us his
“New helicopter” and “blue whistle-umbrella”
And we pretended to look at them in awe.
My wide eyes gave him the notion
That, I was not fortunate enough to own toys.
For, he was sympathetic enough to invite me home
And promised, to let me play with his.
“Which one of your toys would you lend me?”
I asked in mock excitement.
“You can have my Barbie doll…
…And I’ll play with my cars” he replied
Affirming that patriarchy,
Was already seeded in his little head.
I decided not to argue with him,
What if I offend him and he regrets inviting me?
“Sure. Thanks!” I smiled,
And as he waved goodbye the next morning,
While he got off the train;
I realized that, it was probably the last time I’ll see him.
I pondered about all the people who cross our lives,
Like shooting stars;
The drivers who engage in small-talk with us,
The kids we play with, in parks and playgrounds,
The strangers we talk to on buses and trains,
And those we offer pop-corn to at cinema halls.
And realized that,
No matter how short and insignificant an encounter may seem,
Some impressions last a lifetime.

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3 thoughts on “Shooting star

  1. “Affirming that patriachy” – Why are you judging that poor kid? It’s good that you didn’t argue with that innocent 😉
    And yes your posts are good!

    Like

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