Yawning on the train
Eyes peeping from behind the curtains
A damsel in white
Running fingers through her hairs
A darker shade of black that was.

She thought of dancing in the streets
When rain would pour and pour
If she danced for ever
Wouldn’t it be nice?
Humming a tune to herself
Oo-la-la Oo-la-la

She thought of running to standstill
through greens of grass
Under the red sky of white clouds
Beside flowers yellow
Aren’t they colourful?
Whistling a tune to herself

Sitting on a bumpy hillside
flying across the orchard
the sun was shining high
She was smiling to herself
Wasn’t it obvious?
Singing a tune for herself
Ting-ling ting-ling-ting.

26 feb,2010
Mumbai Mail, 1028

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