His right hand fondled the left pocket of his loosely hung shirt with collars akin to an elephant’s ears. There it was, lying in the pocket at the bottom corner. Its mere touch sent a 100 watt smile across his face and his legs swung into action. Murmuring the poem, the one that has got his palms unpeeled, he dance walked, high in the air, towards the only tar road near his village. The time was right too, mid afternoon, teachers would still be at school and parents in the farm. The murmuring got louder and joyous as he thought about his new possession. He took out a polished rock, of the size and shape of a pebble, and started tossing it in the face of the sun, as if tossing his legs and murmuring the poem were not actions enough to justify his happiness. The rock became even brighter in the face of the sun making it possible for him to see it only once it landed in his hands ready for another toss.
The place where he reached was where he enjoyed the most. The people the buses carried in them were amusing. It sort of titillated him when he saw their inability to punish him on seeing him doing all sorts of mischief. He teased buses after buses. He won the arguments and the battles here which he couldn’t manage in his home and the school. And today he had the lucky coin too.
Look at me, tonite
1 day ago