Till the Bell Rings 

Pravat Kumar Padhy 

It was the first day of playschool for our daughter, Rupa. An atmosphere of excitement encircled us — she looked elegant in her uniform and holding her school bag. Her mother was busy curling her hair, packing a lunch box and decorated baby water bottle . . .

But the delight was short-lived. As we approached the school, our little girl started crying aloud. For our consolation, the school teacher smiled broadly, and we stood strangely by as onlookers.

With moist eyes, we stared through the tiny opening of the mighty iron gate until her last step crossed out of our sight.

sun softly peeps
through the window
the blind wishes
a touch of warmth
in the dense cloudy winter

Ribbons  Fall 2018: Vol.14, No.3  (Ed. Susan Weaver)