I want to walk
again, barefoot, on wet stones, see them glisten under the heat of the sun and
watch them go glassy as it drizzles. I want to feel the wind in my hair, feel the
rain on my cheeks, and feel the tenderness, the warmth come upon me
imperceptibly slowly. There won't be no rush, no anxiousness, I know that the
world will be out of my reach as red, blue, orange and green cloud my mind, yet it will be at my disposal. I want to watch my dreams
and aspirations extend without them becoming distant, I want all profound and
pointless questions to leave me, as if they never existed before. I want to try
and reach for that child in me, for clarity, for honesty and for purity.
For her the
skies stay forevermore out of reach.
She is gazing
into the realm of mountains,
The distance to
which she soon starts counting.
She sat herself
on a big wet rock,
Not caring a bit
about her frail blue frock.
She smiles and
rests her chin in her hands,
She sighs and
talks to the birds about her plans.
The pink parasol
lies beside her,
It's the most
cherished present given to her by her mother
She then
remembers her face and remembers why she ran away
It's because her
irrefutable father asked her not to laugh so loud, ever again!
She frowns,
picks up a stone and throws it in the river,
If only she was
big enough, she'd stay gone forever.
She'd stay
beside the mountains and beside the river,
She'd laugh
however and dance whenever.
"But only if
I was big enough, I'd stay here forever." She mumbles and falls asleep on
the big wet rock.
I yearn for that
child in me, who once sat beside the river. I yearn for the girl who knew
nothing about indifference, who got piqued by others asking her to grow up. And
I wish I didn't listen to them, I wish I didn't grow so old with them so young.
Here people are
standing in their balconies, enjoying the rains. That's as far as anyone seems
to get in these "metropolitan cities" and I am no different than
them. The weather's dark, the wind is making the leaves dance, mocking our
languid posture. And all I can think about is the mountain of my soul, all I
want is this surge of sustained noise to die down and the smell of wet soil to
permeate my very heart, so that it pushes me towards a totality of
innocence, towards that laugh which knew no boundaries, towards that
senselessness which never separated itself from others no matter how condescending
they got and towards those glowing cheeks on which even my tears smiled.
