It must be her smile I thought

or those little hands that clasped mine

those moments when she leaned in

or a firm hand now when we cross the road

it must be the fact that she is taller

and definitely smarter

way ahead than what I could hope myself to be

it must be then those memories of laughter

of little jokes, of incessant passion for dance

dressing up and posing

of the stories of school, classroom, teachers

of those little insecurities and then the revelations

the great discoveries of the self and small moments of acute embarrassments

it must be the feeling of her self in my being

of how special she felt and how special I knew she is going to be

it is beautiful to have her by the side

with the many quarrels and fights

the long pieces of motivational setups

the sneer and the sly banter of ‘ so what did you do?’

of now to see her walk ahead

just herself ,her sweet being, so blessed and so true

that I stand in awe of the blessings bounteous of the universe.


One response to “Of her”

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