Lihaaz
(Urdu; Respect)
Under the streetlight in the corner of the park sits a discarded, old bench; paint peeling and insides home to vermin, termites and dust.
This bench is older than you and me.
He's seen monsoons come and go.
He can tell you where and how every kid in this colony scraped their knee.
He waits every morning for Misters Sinha and Siddiqui. He knows all their jokes by heart. Only a few are actually funny.
He watches them cheat on their diets with stolen pedas every Wednesday and puris on Saturdays.
He holds them in his lap every morning. Trying to make them forget all the things the world turned them away from ever since they turned 80.
(Urdu; Respect)
Under the streetlight in the corner of the park sits a discarded, old bench; paint peeling and insides home to vermin, termites and dust.
This bench is older than you and me.
He's seen monsoons come and go.
He can tell you where and how every kid in this colony scraped their knee.
He waits every morning for Misters Sinha and Siddiqui. He knows all their jokes by heart. Only a few are actually funny.
He watches them cheat on their diets with stolen pedas every Wednesday and puris on Saturdays.
He holds them in his lap every morning. Trying to make them forget all the things the world turned them away from ever since they turned 80.
~hyperbolemuch.blogspot (Watch the video here).
I love the imagery, those details. It’s well written. That last line is perfect.
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