The aarti fire
Five priests
Pay homage
To Shiva’s gifts
While one boy
In their shadow
Shines bright
With utter abandon
She runs
Gangly limbs
All astrewn
Head rolled back
Now lolling
Side to side
She runs
Only for the joy
It seems
Of running
Down Bengali Tola
And as my camera
Finally finds her
She finds me
Playful ritual
Paddling on styrofoam
While mother washes
So I settled in
To setup the shot
When a little girl
Ran through it
So I fell in love
With her too
I heard
But did not hear
You exiting the door
And my eye
Was on a scooter
For which I’d waited
Until
Somehow
We learn to forget
We’re children
A car parks beside mine
Released from its confines
A small boy, about five
Runs over to stand beside me
For a moment surveying our domain
In a city of
Greys and dust
And muted blues
A young smile
Comes to me
“Take my picture”
She says
Then stands there
Happy and poised
In vivid red