An Ordinary Day

It was an ordinary day with
people busy in their lives.
A man running to grab a taxi,
a formally dressed lady hopping into her car in haste,
that pretty Aunt we have known our whole life
carefully rotating ‘Open’ sign in her flower shop
with her blossoming smile reading ‘Everyone Deserves Flowers’,
Our society’s famous grandpa out on his walk.
Looking at people the same way I am doing.
where everyone is going in a hurry.

Something my father before and now I witnessed;
an old lady, without fail, for 30 years
coming out to feed the birds, stray dogs, and stray cats all separately.
Those stray animals infamously known to bite strangers
easily calm down beside her.
A language of love? May be

The balloon seller coming and standing at
the same spot he had been for years
in scorching heat,
in heavy rains,
in harshest winters.
But it’s an ordinary day, isn’t it?

A middle-aged guy passing smile to everyone going by.
I thought he didn’t have any job
since he met with an accident years ago
rendering him helpless (my perception)
and restricting him to wheel-chair.
I recently came to know he’s a good painter
and he likes to smile at everyone who passes by.
It’s an ordinary thing, right?

His subtle way of saying don’t take life for granted
You have no idea how blessed you’re with your body intact.

He is waving and smiling at me now.
No, I don’t wish to smile.
I feel tired.
My soul feels tired.
but unknowingly my mouth curves up.

Well, it doesn’t hurt to smile.
It doesn’t feel like a burden as I thought it would be.

It sucks when I am not using some 40 odd muscles to laugh
because after doing so
I don’t feel that bad.
I believe it is an ordinary thing.
Anything would rot if not used for a while.

I walk up to him asking what is he painting today.
He says just ordinary things.
“a lady feeding the animals,
an old man walking alone,
a poor man selling happiness to little kids and
a girl sitting and staring at everyone like it’s the end of the world.
It’s not. It’s just an ordinary day
with people doing extraordinary things every day.”

The Rock

I am sure
I saw fear in his eyes,
but I was prepared to knock him down.

That first thrash hit him hard
then the second thrash,
the third,
the nth….
he still stood tall and proud.

My throbbing, powerful waves
kept lashing into him.

He was a ‘rock’.
But I believe
had a heart of a marshmallow
for he never
avenged me
for my behavior.
Sadly, he knew how ‘hurt’ works.

I had seen some humans crying for the very same reasons at my shore.

~ Rocks they seem but they do get hurt.


Strong people aren’t good at showing their pain but are often misread as someone who stays unaffected all the times.

Never push a kind person beyond the limits. Once built, their walls would be impossible to impregnate.