Wednesday, November 25, 2020
6:30 am, Ommallur, 25th November
Trees sway and dance to the first ray of sun
soaking the dirt of the night in hope
this sleepy town immersed in the hallelujah chorus for various gods stands
on its feet,
birds chirp joyous songs and float in the thin air,
untouched and immaculate.
Mother's prayers reach the skies and hit my ears, it's been an alarm
clock since I was ten.
My mind wanders to the time when we woke to the sounds of
the radio,
when the weight of the school bag bent our shoulders.
With the arrival of youth,
the burden of that memory sometimes puts a smile on my face
when we wanted to grow up
we should have known school bags and skirts were
life's precious gifts that could never be
as good as a pricey designer handbag.
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