la difference


hmmm.. the questioning, the searching never ends. for myself.

for inner peace.

i don't think it actually ends for anyone.
thus the most beautiful is one for whom it has not even started.

the child.
i saw a child today.
she pranced next to her mother, looking up & around her with that wonderment that we can only associate with the youngest ones.
she skipped forward, her legs like butterflies on the pavement; barely alighting, barely touching the ground. it was like gravity did not exist for her.
her face had a cherub's smile; one that would not leave her expression… and did not seem like it would ever. she laughed when she saw the traffic lights; her favourite guard-on-traffic-duty was there. a couple of words and she was off again.

her hair was tied into ponytails; and they jumped with her every dance. there was nothing that was sad, nothing that was as beautiful as the day around. wasn't the sun shining ? it was cloudy, but that meant rain, and puddles to splash in!
there was nothing that was too small to excite her curiosity. the bugs were equalled in importance by the cars that zoomed past; size was not a consideration.

she was happy.

and yet, walking next to her, was a person who seemed to have all the troubles in the world.
her mother walked with her. one cannot call it anything else; but every now and then it looked like the earth did not want her to lift her feet.
a half-lit cigarette was puffed intermittently; and a coke bottle dangled loosely from her hand.
a drawn face, with eyes that spoke volumes of the lack of sleep. lips that moved themselves into a ghastly parody of a smile; when the daughter noted something for her sake.
at the first glance one could not differentiate between her and anyone of the people that you pass everyday, but the aura of the tensions of day-to-day life emanated when you stayed in step for anything more than a couple of minutes.

another day of drudging routine had started, and another morning was here. when had she slept last night ? it was probably closer to dawn. a cloudy day, reflected in her mood. dammit, it was going to rain again.
nothing seemed to interest her; save possibly the gay prancing of her daughter.

a person who looked sad.
[ i am not lying here. i have actually seen this today morning. and walked with them for a block or so. on the opposite side of the road.]

the daughter and the mother. both people living on the same planet. only one has done so for about 30 years more.

la difference.
mort la difference.

i cannot but hope that the daughter remain happy. cherish the childhood. and hopefully hold on to it. that the mother's life improve; if it has actually 'gone down'. that she learn from her daughter's attitude.
because this world is not exactly the best place to live in.
[one gets the feeling that the mother knew that all too well though.]

and yet.. we do. we live. we die. we do something in between. and we try to become happy.
and quite often we do.

i offered a prayer for that child. that she remain with her childhood. not in it. one cannot be 'innocent as a babe forever'.
that her life be fruitful.
that it remain happy.

and hopefully, it will be the same for me. someday.



3 thoughts on “la difference

  1. cleolove

    beautiful ..

    one of my wishes for humanity is that they never grow up, never lose the sheer wonder at the world, the ease at which they smile, or exclaim in joy.

    What hurts my soul most is that they (humanity) does grow up, but they never mature.

    They lose all that is good, and keep all that is bad, about being a child.

    I will never, ever grow up.

  2. Bubba

    Good one sev. Its no wonder I keep coming back to read. When I am around those young ones I have a tendency to play too. Or at least think I still can. Bless them and you for this feeling I’m having.

  3. Rene

    Holy crap, SEV. Is it just me, or is that font small! I always love watching kids play because everything is so new to them, but hey, the lady could have been tired because her daughter wouldn’t go to sleep or kept waking her up every hour, or maybe her husband left her and her baby. Who knows.

    Children have immense imaginations until school beats it out of them.

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