That is my SHE!
There she stations herself at one end of the lawn
Her crisp short hair falling on her face.
The wind caressing her neckline.
Staring helplessly at the sun-bathed garden
Watching from a lonely corner, the world around her
Everybody fighting their way through.
The dogs fighting for the last crumbs of bread
The girls fighting to be the prettiest amongst the rest
The Nescafe’ wala fighting to earn his butter
Everybody is running IN life
And she is running ‘away’ from life.
She sits in vain.
She watches them abstractly.
She is blind, but can see the unseen.
She is deaf, but can hear the unheard.
She is dumb, but can convey the unspoken.
She is my muse.
She is my prose.
That is my SHE!
