Once in the sultry month of May
In the arms of the angel from the sky
Arrived a little bundle of joy
Seeing her delicate dainty doll
Said her mother overwhelmed as she was
“I name her my little Shanzay girl”
Amazed and excited and little bit shy
His big brother welcomed her like a goodboy
Togather they play togather they cry
Thats how the days went by
From diapers, wipes, cerelac and cuddling toys
To turning twisting and and creating noise
Everthing was like a rollar coaster ride
Amid yawning, beaming and shedding tears
Oh how quickly she turns to one year
Once again its the sultry month of May
And today is her birthday!!
What is the best thing a mother can give
Love care and lots of prayers
Wherever you go whatever you become
“You will always be my apple of the eye”.
People usually avoid her because of her don’t-speak-to-me look. She never gives a nod of approval to anyone. She secretly judges others and then brushes an image of them in her mind which never fades off. Verily she had set not very good records in the realm of friendship. She was not in talking terms with any of her past pals. If anything that distinguishes her from others—it was her sulkiness.
She was a mystery box which many gallant lads try to open. Initially the pursuit did have an element of magnetism but somehow the gallantry wears offs.
Her awkwardness can be traced back to her tormented childhood. She was run-of-the-mill in both her appearance and demeanor. She suffered the pangs of being an average in her early days. Her past had endowed in her, layers of insecurities which she had failed to tear away.
Today like all the other days she— alone—moseys the cobbled passageways with her signature grumpiness. As she got an early break from her work she decided to do the thing that she loves the most. As she passed, people cast an indifferent look on her and then they move forward.
Accidentally her foot landed on a muddy patch, the dirty water splashes and blotches her dress a bit. People gave half suppressed laugh. Embarrassed she tramped hastily to a quiet place where she always used to sit. She plunged her hand into her pouch and brandished a shining-slim iPhone. She quickly updated her status with a quote,
“Take a deep breathe. It’s just a bad day not a bad life”.
Instantly her status was endowed with dozen of likes and streaming comments. The silent grumpy soul has a bright side to her which—she failed to depict and people failed to discern.
Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth. Oscar Wilde