For everyday things

   The intricate pattern on the clay like the veins on a leaf. My submerged feet through the clear sparkling water. The light dancing off the scales of a fish as the bird dives in. The tinkling of the spring nearby and the rustling of the leaves. The companionship of far-away mountain peaks half covered in snow . The solitude of the wooden log as it floats silently with the current. The water as it hits the rocks and the spray on my face.

 The lazy afternoon with the solitary star and that blanket of blue. The floating wisps of water higher than the soaring eagle’s reach. The silent sentinels of a time long past the towers in the distance keep a watch. A sombre shade of grey cloaks the obelisk. Like sages who witnessed battles from times bygone they smile at the musings of a girl no more than five and twenty on the river bank.

The sounds of the bazaar that never cease. That lone strand of her hair comes undone and sways in the breeze. The groove in her back as it disappears beneath the folds of her red saree. The earthenware cast shadows tall and stately, the brass pots catch the rays from the setting sun. A girl hops along the dusty road her hair in pleats a frayed blue backpack and her dupatta fluttering with the breeze. The cuckoo flies home and the crickets  begin to sing. I lean on the wide bark of an old banyan tree and watch the fading sky. A rickety scooter with dark fumes runs past me as I walk back home.

  
The night brings the diamonds to light. It cloaks us in darkness so we can watch them shine. Like a sleeping animal the town is asleep, alive only in its quiet breathing. The streetlights cast a dim glow upon the pavement and somewhere a lone dog howls. The moon is but a sliver of its rounded self, it amuses me to watch it wane. The crowded rooftops dotted with temple spires spread across the valley like a fog on a winters morning.

As I watch a new year dawn I wish for the world to endure. Broken it may be, but it has given me a day of silent wonder because it is the little things that make life worth living. It is not for torrid love, it is not for end of terror or war, it is not for treaties of peace, it is not for scientific wonders that will hold me enthralled; it is for everyday things that I want the world to go on.

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