we were here.
you were there.
we waved to you with joy
every morning
in the landing
as you kickstarted the scooter
and sped away.
and then we ran
to the kitchen balcony
and waited for eight minutes
quietly
before you emerged
from the underbridge
far away
across the railway tracks
across the clump of trees lining the road
on which you travelled to work
each day.
we waved at you and called out
"papa! papa!"
and across the distance
we saw your hand go up
and wave back.
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1 comment:
Brought back one of my fondest childhood memories-- me and my sister Pinky and later my cousin Sachin,did the very same thing, except that we waited for a minute between aur two 'tatas'!
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