‘Bee, sit down,’
‘Bee, don’t go out’
‘Bee, don’t run.' 'Bee, don’t shout’
All day, the flat next door
Reverberates with the sound of ‘don’t.’
Amidst lives Bee… an 8 year old
girl. Thin body, dark hair
The girl stands quiet
in the balcony. Her eyes,
so full of despair,
stay fixed on the road where
Boys of 6,7, 8,9,10,
play cricket with abandon
Joy. Nobody asks them not to run
or scream, or to slow down.
I see her heave
a deep sigh.
a few yellowed leaves
of a tree nearby
fall on her head, as though
in sympathy. A strong gush of wind
comes and goes carrying
that sigh away. The sun starts setting.
In the ray of pink sun and yellowed leaves
Stands my little neighbor
Free, yet chained.
This evening again, laughter echoed
On the road. Next door,
a childhood got robbed.
No comments:
Post a Comment