A colorful city,
Where every soul lives in harmony.
Back to daddy’s home town,
Where people’s life was no wonder
on the rush mode.
A month old,
Too little to understand a word or speak,
Her daddy says,
She used to cry every time
If they failed to make her twirl.
3 years old,
Her first day in KinderGarden,
Her mommy said,
Her pony was like a fountain.
Been in the same school till her 10th grade,
Every grade has a tale,
That will always stay,
A trace of her will always be there.
Somewhere at the age of 7,
her brother was now 5,
He was learning to ride a 4 wheeled bicycle,
While she blew away in her 2 wheel bicycle,
All by herself, with pride.
She is 9 now.
She couldn’t understand the concept of one life,
Learning what the teacher says,
Unaware of the blame games.
12 year old.
She is stumbling in her pursue of grace,
Hunting patience, with avengeance.
She stands out looking up smiling
She thought God was taking her photographs.
15 year old,
Where she understands now,
What she know is true,
But might be incomplete.
When she stays inside, writing,
All she could think was about
How she should be outside, living.
She turned 16 next year,
Her college has already begun.
Fighting new odds and few demons,
But having a poetry,
To always fuel her silence.
Helping someone heal,
Helping someone fall in love,
And believing in all her dreams
To reach the peak.
17 years old,
She gave her most of the time
Wandering if she could be somewhere else,
So this is when she learned to frame the word –
With the first thing in her breath, every morning;
And last breath, each night;
So when her very last breath comes,
Atleast, she’ll know she was grateful for…
For all the places she was so sure she was not supposed to be,
All the places she made it to,
All the hurts she held,
All the words she wrote.
She is finally 18 now.
Yet the same old tiny girl,
Who people still confuses with 8 year old.
She kissed a bliss this year.
And learned new things.
Striving to be successful,
Spreading smiles became her routine.
Kissed away the pain, thanking it to stop by,
For few things are always worth to have by.
Today. She is 19.
But again, people will still be confused with her to be the nine year old.
And the brightest bright.
She still refrains to act her age,
Because the child in her
Is the best part what people craves.
Having big dreams in her small eyes,
Talking with stars and the moon
And still searching for nothing
In the wide void room.
She might be reciting some old poetry rn,
Because it tells her,
Where she was exactly at that moment
And the place she tried to navigate.
– Kinjal Parekh