I
The dogs barked in rhythm, he heard them while taking a bath amongst the spattering droplets. The mom heard him whistling a tune in the bathroom, while her potatoes crackled and yelped in the frying pan. The man’s stomach gurgled upon the smell of food, disturbed the flies around him — buzzing erratically, one sat on grandpa’s nose. He sneezed hard, shaken to the bone, waking the neighbours. Out came they, asking if all was well. The dogs barked their rhythmic reply: mind your own business.
II
I’m a child in an adult’s body. My laughter becomes a joy for all, my silliness is ignored as cuteness, my mistakes as “just a child.” The days, I don’t count. The “future” has not come up to me yet. I sing any song; the words mean nothing to me. It makes me happy that I can still board the train for free.
In a crowd I stand amidst the trunks of legs, and catch the tears dropping by, and then wonder how the view from one metre above can be so different from here.