“ Small kids; skidding , kidding, never still,
the boisterous banter spilling
over in the streets .
The pattering of small feet.
Tiny shoes by the gate,
lying in helter skelter disarray .
“Yay, I have won in scrabble “ A yell goes up .
A babel of tongues. Bursting of lungs .
“He is a cheat ! A cheat ! A cheat ! “
Mismatched socks strewn around the rooms .
One under the table, two under the settee.
One under the sofa, one peeping
from under the washroom door.
Ah , there is a heartwarming sight !
Someone singing , with full throated ardour.
At midnight, another raiding the larder.
A bright ten year old shouting “Encore ! “
Another gnashing his teeth, while settling
an old score .
Laughter echoing – haw – haw – haw – aw -a –
Heated exchanges and meaningless tiffs.
Stiff lips and angry grimaces.
Indignant outbursts and slamming of doors .
crunch – crunch – munch – munch !
Midnight feasts .
Stealthy opening of the door.
Furtively, food filched from the fridge.
Summer camps , summer workshops
Hopping. Skipping . Tripping . Slipping .
And Time gallops away !
The twinkling of young eyes.
The blinking of adult eyes .
Aging parents .
And quickly changing scenes .
The parents hear the flutter of wings .
Their hearts hum, but the house falls silent.
Those midnight raids become a thing of the past .
And one day, the children stuff their bags,
with their precious possessions, and fly –
leaving behind a silence.
A heavy silence . A talking silence .
Yakkity yakking. Never slacking.
And parents! Silent too !
But talking to those memories
in hushed , tender whispers.
Tracing the contours of those beloved faces.
Four hands raised in benediction,
cheering at their every little celebration.
And listening to the silence –
Yakity yakking
yakkity yakking
In their dreams ,
they see their fingers tying their kids ‘ undone shoelaces.
Quelling their fears, wiping their tears,
ears riveted to those giggles
still resounding in all rooms.
“He is a Cheat “ A small boy shouts in a big voice .
“No son, you are mistaken
It is time that cheats you !
It cannot be outsmarted by time hacking ! “
The parents mumble and walk into the talking vacuity.
Hand in hand .
.
Santosh Bakaya
.