The Canvas of a little Mind

Sitting there on the bench in the far corner of the park he was enjoying the view of the road. Beside him lied the monstrous school bag with the entire weight of his education and his lunch box lying there open on his thighs. He was appreciating the cookies his mom had made for him and just looking on the road with a curious mind. He would take a bite of his cookie and stare at each and every person going by. His tiny feet were hanging from the bench going to and fro with the wave of the wind. Today he has decided to skip his school. He didn’t like the school anyway. It was like a dungeon where he was sent to tame his imagination and do things he didn’t even feel like doing. He felt more secure on the bench and here he had a companion too, a dog. He used to sit with him for the entire time and sometime bark at the passerby and other dogs. But most of the time he would sit back at the foot of the bench and sleep. He slept a lot, the dog. The boy always thought that the dog was too lazy and sometimes he offered him a cookie or two. The sun was going up and the rush on the road was going up with it. The fisherman on the street was now setting up his shop and was making stalls for different type of fishes. The fisherman reminded him of Santiago from a story his mother had told him. Some of the fishes were alive and splashing the water of the tub all over the place. He was enjoying the play put forward by the fish and also getting curious. He wanted to touch the fish but was too afraid to do it. He thought of being a fish, what liberty they have. They can go anywhere and do whatever they want. And the most important thing is they do not have to remember lessons and neither did they have to solve arithmetic problems. They were the master of their will. Soon he got distracted by the sound of a hawker. He was singing a song endorsing his product. It was a sweet song and a funny one. He thought that this hawker should teach him poetry for it was both rhyming and entertaining. A flower wala passed by, he had the most beautiful and fragrant flowers in his basket. Then there was this samosa wala, he was making samosa with such speed and delicacy that the boy was astonished. He was stuffing the samosa and throwing them in the boiling oil with such perfection and accuracy that the boy thought that he had some superpower. The fragrance of the fried samosa and the sound of the frying were soothing to the boy. The sound of the samosa frying and the hawkers and people chattering and the splashing water by the fishes were all like a pleasant music to the ear of the boy. He started to imagine people moving to that fantastic music in rhythm with the music. It was like the world was dancing to the music of the living spirit of the world. This was the music which was the manifestation of our very existence. A gentle breeze was brushing off the sweat drops off his forehead and face. A mixed fragrance of millions of things elevated his spirits further. The boy looked at the sky. He could see the sun above his head, it was mid day. It was time to go back. But he wanted to stay a little longer or forever. The spirit of bazaar always appealed to the boy. It symbolized energy, happiness and liberty. It symbolized life. There were so many colors in the bazaar that it looked like some magical rainbow. The boy took his school bag with a heavy heart. He took his water bottle in his hand and fared good bye to the dog and started walking down the lane. He was still staring at the bazaar with an empty heart and weary spirit. He was just painting the details of the bazaar on the canvas of his mind.


2 thoughts on “The Canvas of a little Mind

  1. Amit Suryawanshi says:

    You have started writing good Bunty, keep doing this, I am also planning to go online writing hence need to create a profile. Appreciate the skill you have, I think we all brothers ( you , Lucky, me) are just trying to connect the dots. Lots of love, Amit


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s