I Once Knew A Little Girl ...

I once knew a little girl,
Chubby-faced, cheeky-eyed,
Two long plaits hanging by her head
(Plaits that looked like two karunaagams, said some).
A heart that knew nothing but joy,
A mind that churned questions after questions
(Who is the mother of the mother of the mother of the neighbour aunty).
A pair of legs that skipped wherever she went
(Walking was drearily slow).

There was barely any flesh on her body,
Skinny she was during the early years,
But a tinge of chubbiness was there always
(in her cheeks),
Tracing her to the man who made her,
Reminding her of where she came from,
Never allowing her to forget the dark old man (with his full-teeth-grin),
Even as she grew bigger
(literally too, and eventually matching the chubbiness of her cheeks).

This little girl I knew had a sister,
Much elder, much wiser, much like a mother.
Clinging to the sister as she grew
(sometimes literally too).
The little chubby-faced one stepped into the world
(still occasionally hiding behind the older wise one - with big scared eyes,no doubt),
Learning a great many things,
Making a great many mistakes,
All of which entered her books of experiences
(not that she didn't have enough books to manage already).

I sometimes wonder what happened to her
(that little chubby-cheeked one),
If at all she really is no more
(like I believed her to be),
Or if she has outgrown that child I once saw in her
(so much so that I no longer recognise her),
Or if she is indeed hiding away from me,
Fearing that I would see the real her,
And that seeing me would remind her of things
(things she wants to forget).

I haven't a clue...

But I do miss that chubby-faced, cheeky-eyed one,
The one who had two long plaits hanging by her head
(Plaits that looked like two karunaagams)...


* karunaagam is black cobra in thamizh