A Child Once Again
-Aadhya Jain
Every time I open my laptop and press the tip of my fingers on the keypad,
or whenever I pick up a pen and press its tip to a crispy white page,
or whenever I find a story hiding in a nook or cranny of my mind,
I become a chubby 4’1, 5 years old girl once again.
Bold pencil strokes that leave marks on addition worksheets,
giggling at Shin Chan and Doraemon in the afternoon,
playing hopscotch and tag until my feet hurt and its sundown,
and Pokémon cards with my brother until the lights are off.
With unbridled childlike joy and innocence, that’s how I live(ed).
A dozen pinches a day that leave me rubbing my cheeks,
a hundred drawings an hour of colours that go outside of lines,
and a thousand imaginations swirling in my head
like tiny stars in my mind’s solar system with
a thousand births and deaths of stars each minute.
I channel my inner child who finds joy in the littlest of things.
She looks up to the sky and still, in those stars
she points at her dream with hope in her eyes
at the brightest one too, the North Star.
She’s waiting for me to make her big dreams come true.
She lives off of creativity and finds it even in the blandest of things.
Old Banyan trees are witches that want to use black magic to terrorize you.
Up in the sky in the clouds is a kingdom in ruins waiting to be discovered,
and if you discover the end of a rainbow then they become a leprechaun.
A silly little girl with her fantasies half a decade back,
she’s the one who makes words pour out of my heart.
I like this!