Never Mine…

Aneeza Soobadaar

Sometimes I pray for that little boy that was never mine
I smiled at him as he tugged at my long Indian skirt
In a desperate attempt to attract my attention, his arms glistening with slime
As he begged for a few coins, his shivering body oblivious of all hurt

I pray for that little boy with big dark eyes, so forlorn
Watching him milling around the market area
With its display of splashy items, leaving no spot unadorned
That his heavy heart so desires, his life an innocent inertia

I pray for that little boy, whose sight has become a comfort to my distant gaze
I give him what I give best, a kind smile
Oh yes, some food too, but words and more, to level him in his haze
As we feel each other, both thrown into some sort of exile

I pray for that little boy, whom I haven’t seen since a long time now
Earnestly hoping he is not in harm’s way
I have grown grooved to his presence, surprising myself somehow
I did not even ask for his name, he must surely be strolling some other alleyway

Sometimes I pray for that little boy that was never mine
I stopped going to that area, as I bled through the years
For things that ought to be, but never were, shimmering crystalline
It is strange how life throws people at you with whom you sync instantly, no demur

Yes, I pray for that little boy that was never mine
He is probably a young man now, as I try to picture him
As the fog is nestling itself deeper and deeper into my mind
For each day that unfolds, brings me some pieces of an answer that is still spinning

Sometimes, I pray for that little boy that was never mine
I am staring at a fish pond, its clear waters whispering to me
A sweet whisper that touches only those who are not blind
As my heart slowly releases the little boy, in an unmatched harmony

Biography

Aneeza Soobadar loves reading and writing poetry and short stories in both English and French since her teenage years. For her, writing is a way to connect to the essence of life and its people, as we navigate this increasingly digital world.