Birthday girl

The white flower placed over her ear

greets you even before her face does the same;

Some personalities are loud, some insane,

Many are considered few amongst the rest,

Some are overlooked nonetheless.

But she’s neither of them: unique yet not subtle.

She talks with the command of an age she hasn’t grown yet

— youth and life and pain and strife and truth;

In any case, you end up listening to what she has to say.

It’s difficult not to pay attention when her questionnaire makes your day!

There’s a mischievous laughter that echoes

despite her words not intending so.

Maybe that’s the beauty of an innocent soul,

coiled inside that cast of a tough modern girl.

The classic maternal touch is evident like a 24-hour sun

When she feeds you while you pretend to be famished,

or about to die

and even when you’re not.

All you’ve got to do is ask and whine a bit,

her drawer never disappoints you.

Like her heart and eyes, it’s always full…

Perhaps finding a friend with food is oasis personified.

Perhaps finding a good friend today is life personified.

NB: This doggerel (if you don’t wish to call it a poem) is dedicated to Avantika, a dear friend and a lovely colleague.