Yarn story
The grandmother, she came and sat on the same bench
It was green and stood under an aged mango tree.
Her knitting tools were gathered in a blue cloth,
That she knotted with a learned patience
that only a sixty or so
years could teach!
Every day,she would spend time here,
Knitting little sweaters and socks
Once she knit a little hat
with a bright orange flower
placed at its centre.
When she'd finish her work,
She'd spend an hour
bestowing upon it a perfection,
Only to please herself
Which was then expressed in
a gracious wrinkled smile...
Surely, you have an image of her,
Yes,she wore sarees in subtle colors
And wore spectacles that rested on the tip of her nose
At times she'd lift her gaze from her work
Tilt her head backwards
to get a better look at the teenage love birds..
Who'd scurry to find another corner
and escape her!
This one day,
She came with a little toddler,
Who held a bright red ball in hand,
She placed him on the tender grass
And he sat there holding the ball in a curious manner
Looking at it and then his grandmother,
who untied the blue bundle and threw him kisses in the air.
He reached out,
entwined his fingers in his soft round curls
"Search the kisses...for they are stuck
in there", she chuckled, as her needles clicked together!
But then,
the toddler hid beneath that bench,
She placed the needles on her lap
And paused to look around
The bright red ball became a symbol of dread!
For its little owner,
was nowhere to be seen
She got up and gasped...
The needle and the yarn dropped down near her feet
"Where is my child"?, she mumbled
with her shaking hands rising to her chest!
There came a little hand from under the bench
It held the yarn of wool which was followed by a peeping head
The grandmother bent down to pick him up
Rested his head on her shoulders and dusted him well!
She kissed those curls a million times
And moved ahead taking long strides.
The yarn,the needles and this part of her life,
Was now forever left behind...
For I've never seen her since that day
I imagine,she's throwing kisses in the air
at her little toddler
To while her time away...
I would like to know she's still knitting
And momentarily thinks about this park,
the bench and a stranger who came to
look at her everyday!
The grandmother, she came and sat on the same bench
It was green and stood under an aged mango tree.
Her knitting tools were gathered in a blue cloth,
That she knotted with a learned patience
that only a sixty or so
years could teach!
Every day,she would spend time here,
Knitting little sweaters and socks
Once she knit a little hat
with a bright orange flower
placed at its centre.
When she'd finish her work,
She'd spend an hour
bestowing upon it a perfection,
Only to please herself
Which was then expressed in
a gracious wrinkled smile...
Surely, you have an image of her,
Yes,she wore sarees in subtle colors
And wore spectacles that rested on the tip of her nose
At times she'd lift her gaze from her work
Tilt her head backwards
to get a better look at the teenage love birds..
Who'd scurry to find another corner
and escape her!
This one day,
She came with a little toddler,
Who held a bright red ball in hand,
She placed him on the tender grass
And he sat there holding the ball in a curious manner
Looking at it and then his grandmother,
who untied the blue bundle and threw him kisses in the air.
He reached out,
entwined his fingers in his soft round curls
"Search the kisses...for they are stuck
in there", she chuckled, as her needles clicked together!
But then,
the toddler hid beneath that bench,
She placed the needles on her lap
And paused to look around
The bright red ball became a symbol of dread!
For its little owner,
was nowhere to be seen
She got up and gasped...
The needle and the yarn dropped down near her feet
"Where is my child"?, she mumbled
with her shaking hands rising to her chest!
There came a little hand from under the bench
It held the yarn of wool which was followed by a peeping head
The grandmother bent down to pick him up
Rested his head on her shoulders and dusted him well!
She kissed those curls a million times
And moved ahead taking long strides.
The yarn,the needles and this part of her life,
Was now forever left behind...
For I've never seen her since that day
I imagine,she's throwing kisses in the air
at her little toddler
To while her time away...
I would like to know she's still knitting
And momentarily thinks about this park,
the bench and a stranger who came to
look at her everyday!
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