The Castle in the Air!

 

The name Amita Raj, gifted her parents;

a youth, just twenty-three years old,

looking pretty, bearing a smile of gold,

she was in the morn of her life.

 

Her face was a cute bloom at the dawn,

with decent-done hair-do and modest jeans,

 to hate her, no way for others;

 her visage was painted in charming manners.

 

Her greatest dream was soaring in the air,

displaying her doctoring with faults rare.

She was content, had no gloom,

and of course her work was her plume.

 

Ready she was to follow any trend,

sensing love and mercy as an apt blend,

fixing a stethoscope around her neck,

moved she, as a kin among the sick.

 

Like a honeybee toiling around plants

Fluttering to earn dainty in plenty,

Amita kept helping for the ailing,

be off their ache by words so sweet.

 

Alas! one day, a man in rags, insane,

 sharp scissors into her neck, inserted;

 intense narcotics, very dense

had sucked entirely his common sense.

 

A doctor with a mind full of ideas

to cure sincerely, the destitute,

had built a Castle of good thoughts;

God! It was a palace in the air. 

Tom’s Granddaughter!

 Tom’s granddaughter was an obstinate seven-year-old, named Tessa. She was enjoying the sweet  smile of blooms afresh. She never touched any blossom, letting them to cling to the bosom of viewers.   At dawn itself she bemoaned for pastry, which her grandpa lovingly handed over. Delightfully licking the cake, she ran to the gate to perform her routine observation of people and vehicles passing by. The pedestrians, many have reduced their number on the road by moving their physique to four wheels.

 

Then she watched a mother with two daughters, walking on the pavement, the little one in her hand.  The elder kid, a wee bit back, was bewailing for her belly need. The mom and the kids cut a sorry figure, having a pale-looking skin with no muscle to fill in. They were in rags and their hairs looked matted. The infant was comfortably  sleeping on the shoulder of her mother.

 

Suddenly Tessa opened the gate and rushed to the lamenting baby. She stumbled down on the pavement, but managed to keep the cake edible. The beggar mother forgetting her dirty appearance helped Tessa up and Tessa handed over her cake to the elder daughter, some paint had vanished from her knee.

 

Grandpa hearing the gate’s sound, arrived at the incident, which he could not bear. By the time his legs carried him to the spot,  the matter was over. He thought his darling was being abducted. He pulled out from the quiver his weapon of shouting and questioning , “ How dare you touched my baby with dirty hands?  Hadn’t I have reached here, you would have taken our child to your lot.” The oldie’s age was not primed to suit the new age.

 

His rage expanded to a mountain and he rang to the police, who at once carried the beggar woman to the station. Tessa though moaning softly, tried to pacify her grandpa, but he turned a dead year to her.

 

Tessa narrated things to her mom, whose cuisine schedule kept her unnoticed about the incidents.

 

Tessa’s pop ran to the police and rescued the woman and promised them some substantial help. Tessa had followed the poem-words, taught in the class, “ Little act of kindness makes the Earth an Eden.”