| Saturday, February 9, 2008 |
| Up Above the World So high |
She misses the swing her father had put in the corridor of her house, which all her friends took turns using. Hot summer afternoons, sad rainy days that washed off the hop scotch marks, or wrapped cool evenings – it provided endless amusement to many. There is something special about swings – being in the air, feet off the ground and eyes shut tight. Swinging her legs to get speed, she was the happiest when on her swing. Twisting it into an endless knot otherwise, holding it tight till her toes could barely reach the ground, she’d let go suddenly and it’d come undone – spinning very fast at first and eventually slowing down and making her dizzy. She and her friend would do this and then eventually end up in giggles when they wouldn’t be able to walk straight after.
She can’t resist the swings even though she’s well past the age of trying them stunts at the school’s playground, falling and skinning her knees. My house will have one of those, she once thought when she walked past a park. And promptly forgot about it.
The list of material things she needs, the goals to accomplish, the money to be earned and the people to be defeated has become so long and tiresome that the swing like the rest of the plan for the house is forgotten. The one with the fountain and the iron gate and an antique writing table.
She wonders now if it’ll just have to be a condo with a view, for there is no space for a swing in her life now. Or time. Or will she stop running past the park, and actually stop – when no one’s watching. |
posted by iksha @ 8:18 AM   |
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| 2 Comments: |
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but there's always room for swings, and other simple wishes :)
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err, that was me, aka sherene..didn't realize ritwik was signed in..oops
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but there's always room for swings, and other simple wishes :)