That morning…

(1)

It was on the morning

after the intervening nights

of December 31 and January 1,

When souls, mostly happy ones

had bombarded each other with wishes,

That somehow the new year

would certainly be a happy one –

come what may;

(2)

It was on the morning after

when the New Year wishes lay abandoned

like burnt Diwali crackers on desolate lanes,

I then see an orphan boy

picking up a handful of burnt crackers

and carrying them as though

they were his children asleep in his arms,

He couldn’t afford to buy those crackers

and God had disappointed him

by sending summons to his parents

to be with Him;

(3)

It was on that morning

when I had gone outside

to feel the Happy New Year;

(4)

That morning I saw –

Our local garbage collection guy,

who couldn’t pick up any wishes last night –

so he was back at work,

There were no cartloads of wishes

for the thelawala either –

so he too was back at work,

desperate to upload a load,

so that his family could eat that night,

None dropped a wish last night

upon the begging bowls of street beggars –

so they too were out early

on the pavements;

(5)

I then walk back home

and pull out a forgotten book

from a dusty bookshelf

to search for a dried-out-flower

without fragrance,

Someone had dropped

that floral wish years ago,

That morning I remembered that wish.

© Sabah