Writing Prompt: The little things

Describe a little thing— one of the things you love that defines your world but is often overlooked.

I remember when I was in college I was a very shy teenager, I stayed away from people who talked too much and had a very big ego. I disliked that part of their personality and kept myself aloof from them.

I met a senior student who came forward and introduced herself,she was taught by my sister, she felt I was lonely and did her best to make me comfortable.

One day I thought maybe if I introduced my sister to my classmates they might try to be friendly with me. Hoping my sister wouldn’t mind I asked her to accompany me to my college. At first she said she would, but when I was ready to go back to college ,she told me she was unable to go. Her reason, she had more important things to do than go to my college. I was angry,I picked up my bag and left the house.

Hours later she came to my college, her important work did not materialize, therefore she decided to visit me. It was too late I did not forgive her.

It was only a little thing I asked for, my sister overlooked it, I was disappointed , at my age then I viewed things differently I felt my sister rejected me because  to her I wasn’t important enough!

: https://sabethville.wordpress.com/2014/05/03/writing-prompt…-little-things/

Tagore song “Ami Pauth Bhola Ek pothik Eshechhi” translaion and post by Ranu

Latina: Jasminum sambac ‘Arabian Nights’ It is an evergreen vine or shrub, available in India. Common name: Arabian Jasmine ‘Arabian Nights’, Hindi: Bela, Telugu: Malli, Tamil: Kodi mulli, Manipuri: Jati pushpa, Bengali: Bel. Family: Oleaceae (Jasmine family). This photgrpah has been taken at Dhulagarh, Howrah. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I am a lost traveler

visiting you.

I am evening’s jasmine dear

and morning’s Arabian jasmine

do you know me?

I know you young traveler

your colorful clothing flies in the forests.

In the month of phalgun,

you are an impatient fire,

In the night of the month of chaitra,

you are aloof.

We are floating towards you

Who is calling this homeless

crazy person,

in a humming tune,

when I roam around in the forest?

I the mango bud called you.

I dreamed of you before I saw you,

I loved you without knowing you.

When the day is done,

and I am finished playing in the heated sand,

ready to go on the road,

who will take the fallen flowers in the chariot?

I the creeper will take it.

When the dry leaves scatter,

at the sound of music,

who will be left?

I will  stay and be sad,

O the indifferent traveler,

the beautiful spring ,

will erase the pain of separation.

I the crazy traveler will laugh.

I am a lost traveler,

visiting you.