START COUNTING
He walked faster and faster
the train was leaving
he found his spot
in the corner amidst cartons of food for the travellers
but what was he?
His mind trying to count his money
His fingers too less
At the age of 9 many did not know money
Children believing in the magic that brought them goodies
But he knew better
For he had prayed and begged with the magical
Begged for a different day
For he felt paralysed unable to move
His existence so same everyday
Broken noses can break again and again
Black eye almost part of the memory of his face
Black eye painful yet seeing was not
Shattered face but mind intact with the colours
The colours he painted with hope and dreams
The thrill of the kite he made
From trash paper and his mother’s stolen thread
It wasn’t much
It wasn’t bright
But it flew taking his heart with
Then the days were not same
His magical stories changing with his beating heart
Foolish counting of the stars and chasing each other
Round and round
His broken nose still reminding him of a coming rain
His black eye still seeking the hidden flawlessly
In a game of hide and seek
The train jolted him out of imagination
There was a commotion in the neighbouring compartment
He peered slowly to find a boy around his age
The boy looked at him like one of the movies he’s watched
Movies of young boys with shoes and toys and an unbroken face
He peered closer until he fell out of hiding
The other kid came running to him with awed eyes
Displeasing eyes of the parents lost
Lost as these kids discover each other
Not through the eyes but their hearts
A little ragged
A little well groomed
But in their minds one has already started counting
As the other rushed frantically searching for a place to hide
One boy and another
While searching for a glimpse of the bright t-shirt
And new shoes of his new friend
He wondered ‘what is his story’?
Childhood can be uniting
Imagination running wild like rivers waiting to meet
Yet when they do its all the same
Childhood is a gift
For some it is their only one
Only bright spot
Only colours bringing warmth
As he sleeps nursing the pain of brokenness
Look beyond the brightness yet instead
Look at their efforts at being children
Look to listen
to hear the cries they’ve muted out of hopelessness
there is a story #behindeveryface
behind the broken and the unbroken
unmute their cries
stifle their hopelessness
it isn’t about looking anymore
hear the cries and the stories
for every kid has one that will tell you tales
one #behindeveryface
POEM BY 18 YEAR OLD NANDHITHA BABUJI
