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thoughts

Children’s Day


Wearing  white smocked frocks
red socks and matching shoes,
 a red band on the head, three  
kids walk towards the tarmac.

One garlands him twined 
with red roses the other offers a bouquet 
where pink is dominant the youngest
 hands over a ripe lemon,

Nehru lifted the one  who 
garlands throws her up in the air,
 takes the hand of the second.
kisses the third.

 The kids, innocent as they could be,
steal the limelight, become in  no time 
 the cynosure of all eyes, stand dazed
knowing not what to do. 

I being the privileged of the three,
the one who went up the air
walk beside him.. Why such a reception?
 I wonder, he is another man in the crowd.

( it is befitting to recall this anecdote on  Nehru’s birthday)