the green rushing past the window is but a blur, as the swaying motion of the train drags me into one of my motion induced state of semi-sleep. the eyes being to droop as the cool breeze blows through my hair and i begin to slip into a nostalgic dream.
...the rains that were but a moment ago lashing outside the train window, are suddenly pattering down on my face, as i dressed in gum boots and raincoat look up to the sky. rains are my favorite. monsoon is a season i look forward to all year. what for others is a season of mud, puddles and flies, for me are the best days of being a little boy. to see the earthworms squiggle out of the wet earth. to float paper boats on the newly invigorated stream of rainwater by the road. to see the whole world transform into a green rhapsody and to visit the dirty puddle with tadpoles each day to see them transform from heads with tails to tiny limbs with tails, until one day there are no tails and no tadpoles. but a million tiny frogs hopping all over the place begging to be caught and hidden away in the pockets of the raincoat...
as a sudden jolt of the train awakens me, only the rain still falls outside. i cannot but think that maybe one day they will return; the earthworms and the tadpoles with tails.
i want them to.
3 comments:
the problem is, you write way better than me :P
people will compare...sigh
u caught frogs??? i didn't know that!!!
Rhythm: not the big ones. the small ones and tadpoles. there was a time when they didn't come across as icky. guess we were just braver as children. :P
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