From behind the pane
I watch her move,
criss-crossing her way
for the evening groove
With a bunch of hot-air balloons
red, white and blue
she knocks on each window
for earning a rupee or two
Straining her eyes
she peeps inside
slanting and leaning on the cars
only to be treated with snide
But unfazed she moves on
scuttling to the next in sight
standing tiptoe, she ask once again
amidst the dimming twilight
And then all of a sudden
A red balloon rise
escaping her little fingers
breaking the shackles, it flies
Floating and soaring
It zooms up in the sky
As she keeps staring
with her wistful eyes
9 comments:
lost balloons have always made a huge effect on my poetic vision, since I heard the song baby's black balloon...
I also remember that when I was a kid I saw on tv how a kid flies to a unknown village with a bunch of hot air balloons..
I have used it in one of my favourite Poems Fragments a.k.a Torn pages..
The philosophy of lost balloons lingers with an asymptotic pain-dhore o dhora jaina..
a frail, helpless feelings -as frail as the story of street vendors in metros and the epic of Indian poverty itself.
Beauty magazines ,Santa hats and hot air balloons...the people we buy these things from never played with those toys.....a lost childhood ,like the lost balloon
no wonder
the little girl was
"Floating and soaring
It zooms up in the sky
As she keeps staring at it
with her wistful eyes"
A very poetic narration of the sadness we wake up to everyday
A single suggestion
“standing tiptoe, she ask once again
amidst the dimming twilight light”
omit the “light” if possible
“amidst the dimming twilight” is good enough
And it does rhyme with the “scuttling to the next in sight” well
P.S : you’re getting better with every write up...take real life poetry seriously
This is beautiful...v.easy to picturize...am subscribing to ur blog...will comment regularly...pls check out my blog too...and comment :)
@goirick: thanks for the suggestion, i have already made the necessary changes...:)
@sweta: thanks for stopping by and...i have visited ur blog a few times in the past...and hope to keep coming back to u in future too....keep walking!!!
A simple and sweet :)
Ya the little balloon girls ...we never mind shelling out for the branded clothes we wear but become precariously miser to buy the balloons for a rupee or two.....
your poem not only brought before my eyes the plight of the little baloon girls i meet everyday on the way but it also reminded me of a baloon which flew off my hand during a durga puja many years back.... As a kid..i always had plans of collecting a huge number of such ballons..just enough to carry my weight..and fly around...thanks for rekindling my old memories :)
@Tanaya: i too had this feeling in my younger days....actually these hot-air balloon had always intrigued me and seriously thought i could fly along with those someday....m happy that u liked it....keep walking!!!
bapere baab
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nBDbxoO0AT8&eurl=http://www.orkut.co.in/FavoriteVideos.aspx%3Frl%3Dls%26uid%3D11890920925825272928&feature=player_embedded
anorak- khub khub shundor laglo... could totally relate to the Little Girl :)
come read my post.
it reminded me of a poem i wrote a long time back.
khub bhalo likhecho.
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