Poetry
Aishwarya K R
Heading for the Hills Droplets falling from heaven; My thoughts are heading for the hills, They have come to a halt at my childhood, Oh, that’s a sudden stop. Woven by my brother, childhood was the prettiest time. Butter-flying with him was my best loved pastime, Hunting for new places always resulted in the same stamping ground. But river always fascinated me with her cuddling ways, She offered me her petals of water. To make me happy, brother flipped little waves; springing as colored images. Tiny sprinkles touched my innocent cheeks, gave me a breezy essence, Imprinted in my mind those sparkling drops, forming the shape of a crescent. My little skirt hugged the wavy rhythm of life, Swaying like a flower which was thrown up by the breeze, I grabbed his hands and walked through the itinerary of happiness. Mind and body suffused in the chillness of age, I lost my sense somewhere between the pebbles. Regaining it, I stood at the bank of memories, Staring at the black and white memories flowing through the river, I found that nothing was left. Petrified by the years of grief, I dropped off my innocence And merged with the rest, Fleeing with time, those tiny waves waved goodbye to me forever... (This poem won honourable mention in the December 2011 Poetry Writing competition of SH College Writers’ Forum)
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