Remember when you were a kid and fell sick? The whole world just reduced to a bed-ridden little you wrapped in blankets and your mother who sat by your bed and attended to you 24×7, who showed up by your side every 2 hours with oranges, ORS and medicine while you ate and drank everything she asked you to even while making faces? You knew she was going to make it right.
Or how even after growing up, on a really bad day the world could reduce to essentially just that?
I had decided when I was pretty young
I knew what to ask Him for when I got my wishes
I’d ask for a cupboard full of Apsara Extra Dark pencils
Pearl-white Faber Castell erasers and a thick coloring book and paints
I’d ask for a nice badminton racket for myself
That I wouldn’t share
And dirtier bruise-ier knees a testimony to my outdoor affair.
Multicolored hairbuns and satin ribbons
Straight long hair my parents couldn’t bob again,
And a new pair of white socks for school everyday.
Then I’d ask
Why he didn’t let some of His kids sleep sound at night.
Why I was young but never blind
Why only some ever woke up with swollen eyes –
So maybe a lesson or two on naivety complementary
For the not so lucky, never so naïve.