Lollipop Memories


Stubby little fingers feeding pigeons perched on a loft beneath the window sill.
The rotund pushing the frail aside; how she wished she could feed them all.
Her mother calls and she scurries, across the terrace that singed her bare feet.
She plows into a massive form and yet she cannot wait or stall.
Mother hands a note that says ‘pint of milk’ with a rupee and sends her off.
Papers dancing in trifling whirl winds, open drains with paper boats.
Cycle skidding in the dust, hawker selling sullied ice cream cones,
And when a scarce car whooshes by,
The urchins race across to break their bones.
The counter-top at general store is too high;
The peddler smiles at enormous eyes and knows their name.
He hands the change and while she gawks;
At neat stacks of jars with soggy biscuits and lollipops;
He wonders if she ever talks.
She flits back home, she hands the change.
Twenty years subsequent, she gazes at buildings with a hundred floors, watching the sun skim windows on building tops.
Still haunted by native dust and smelly alleys, lazy street dogs and broken kites;
Insufferably longing for soggy biscuits and lollipops.

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About Me

Being a mom, and the love of someone’s life is all the inspiration I need to write, dream and live. I live in Dallas, TX and am also living an immigrant’s dream in the software world in my routine life. However, the best time of my life is spent blogging and writing with my team of sons.

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