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Cotton Candies and Paper Planes
| Cotton Candies |
Pieces of cloud rented from the sky, dyed magenta and then drizzled by an elixir called love, were those cotton candies. There they sat, grinning widely in the stall beneath the ferris wheel. And not very far away, in a land of flourishing poverty and shattered faith, lives a lad who still peaks out of the window, hoping the surging sun would bring an end to this dusk, someday. Yes, hope is all he carries along with a stack of newspaper to sell, as he walks out of his hut everyday.
His eyes light up as he walks past the cotton candy stall, as if it was all he ever sought. He rests his newspaper stack on the bench and tallies the coins he has earned, but they seem to be never enough. Tears drip from his eyes as he promises himself to work harder from tomorrow. He rubs his eyes with this piece of spare paper and instead of throwing, he makes a paper plane out of it. He throws the plane towards the cotton candy stall with hope in his eyes, hoping he too will make it to that stall someday. He smiles.
| Paper Planes |
Amidst all the glitter and chatter and the giggle and banter lingering in the air of the carnival, he sits with a heart filled with cravings but legs ever so exhausted, on his wheel-chair. He looks at the kids of his age galloping and chuckling in joy, striding from stall to stall, rides to rides as if they were blessed with concealed wings, while he sits near that one stall with a piece of that dull cotton candy in his hand. He doesn't want wings, all he wants is to feel the earth beneath him as he strolls forward with his tiny steps, but alas! we all would be knitting wonders if life were so kind.
Tears drip from his eyes as hope flees from his heart, and he looks up at the sky, closes his eyes and yearns for the almighty to pity him, this very ones. As he opens his eyes, this weary paper plane falls before his feet. He throws away the cotton candy that he held and grabs the paper plane, with a wide grin. He pats the dust off the plane and throws it up in the air with hope in his eyes, hoping he too will fly someday. He smiles.
© thewordplayer
Pieces of cloud rented from the sky, dyed magenta and then drizzled by an elixir called love, were those cotton candies. There they sat, grinning widely in the stall beneath the ferris wheel. And not very far away, in a land of flourishing poverty and shattered faith, lives a lad who still peaks out of the window, hoping the surging sun would bring an end to this dusk, someday. Yes, hope is all he carries along with a stack of newspaper to sell, as he walks out of his hut everyday.
His eyes light up as he walks past the cotton candy stall, as if it was all he ever sought. He rests his newspaper stack on the bench and tallies the coins he has earned, but they seem to be never enough. Tears drip from his eyes as he promises himself to work harder from tomorrow. He rubs his eyes with this piece of spare paper and instead of throwing, he makes a paper plane out of it. He throws the plane towards the cotton candy stall with hope in his eyes, hoping he too will make it to that stall someday. He smiles.
| Paper Planes |
Amidst all the glitter and chatter and the giggle and banter lingering in the air of the carnival, he sits with a heart filled with cravings but legs ever so exhausted, on his wheel-chair. He looks at the kids of his age galloping and chuckling in joy, striding from stall to stall, rides to rides as if they were blessed with concealed wings, while he sits near that one stall with a piece of that dull cotton candy in his hand. He doesn't want wings, all he wants is to feel the earth beneath him as he strolls forward with his tiny steps, but alas! we all would be knitting wonders if life were so kind.
Tears drip from his eyes as hope flees from his heart, and he looks up at the sky, closes his eyes and yearns for the almighty to pity him, this very ones. As he opens his eyes, this weary paper plane falls before his feet. He throws away the cotton candy that he held and grabs the paper plane, with a wide grin. He pats the dust off the plane and throws it up in the air with hope in his eyes, hoping he too will fly someday. He smiles.
© thewordplayer
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