I know a little girl, with curls tamed into two long oiled plaits. A little girl who daydreamed till it confused with her reality. Who read books into the early morning mysterious hours till the lines blurred. Who sat at window sills seeing yet unseeing, building little tales around figurines going about their daily affairs. Who bought to life her mind’s characters behind the closed doors of her room. Who carried on the hum drum of daily life fueled by her wonderfully imaginative world to keep her blood pumping, nerve tingling company.
Every single time, i cross the threshold of my maternal house, life breathes into this little girl. She tugs at my hand and shows me the sights. Through her senses, i feel, see, smell, hear and touch all that reined in her day. When she was the queen of her world and her mind.
As i walk around, my hand trailing along walls and stairway banisters, she whispers sweet nothings, telling me about all that she was and all that is bubbling away inside of me. She urges me to do away with this self confessed worldly outer shell i have layered myself with. She begs me to let her run in my veins again.
I am in awe of this little girl. My curls are now free of maternal plaits, yet my shoulder muscles are bunched with responsibilities. An excuse i use to free my hand of the little girls small urgent one.
Yet…. she wont let go yet. She is my champion. A constant reminder in the form of my parents, well wishers and my lovely childhood home. She has also become fast friends with my little elf, who time and again makes me wistful with her words and deeds, yet unflavoured, at the mercy of nothing.
Maybe…sum day….one day, as hope which dances forever…..we shall waltz together, the little girl and i…her little palm in mine, my hand on her shoulder, her’s on my waist….twirling twirling twirling, till our blurred images become one…
Here’s to the child in all of us….here’s to our wonder years dreams….may we never give up on them….❤