ALWAYS RUNNING.
He was walking to school
Dragging the heavy backpack
Tailing behind his sister
She kept walking faster and faster
He tried catching up
Running behind eyes squinting to the sun
‘go away, my friends are almost here’
She screamed whispering to him
He got the sign
It is harder than one thinks
To find your friend, when the heads you can see
Line just fine
The little boy strapped his backpack tighter
‘last running strike’
He thought his focus on his friends standing further away
Huffing and puffing her ran
Sweat greasing his brow
‘I made it !’ he said
His face sweating and reddening
Reddening
Blood streaking the classrooms
Reddening
Peshawar.
134 Children
‘last running strike’ he had said
Far away another girl was walking
Counting her steps in fives
Undoing her pleats as fast as she could
And trying to press down her hair into submission
Her mother never understood
The difference pleating did
How it started that one day
When he didn’t knew her name
And called her ‘pigtails’ instead
She ran cramming her hair into her neck
Better be there before and hide
Like the dust settling on the classroom chairs
No body notices
Yet for some reason she doesn’t go unnoticed
The time was nearing
Nearing to the end of the day
‘last running streak’ she whispered
Braiding her hair back for her mother
Tying her laces to run
Everywhere.
Your school
Mine
Thousands of children
‘last running streak’ she said.
Schools
Will it only be when blood was drawn
Will it only be when she had to hide like the dust
When will it be that it is safe?
Why were the words
‘last running streak?’
Nandhitha Babuji is a 18-year-old aspiring poet from Tamil Nadu, passionate about using her words to show solidarity against children’s issues.
