A little girl in an almost empty bus...

A little girl in an almost empty bus...is not an usual sight...you surely look around for her parents...and I did the same...I did find them standing on the pavement waiting for the driver...and what a sight it was..when grown ups show their disgust for having to wait a little while..a child has her own time..feeling like a grown up...fiddling with the little things about, the window pane..scribing words across the dirt on it...imagining strange things and speaking to herself...It so seems that the One sitting up there, has come down to play a child's game to create little world in her own mind..and to live in it...knowing quite well, that in a moment it might get lost. And the little soul fears none...she will weave a new tale once again..

Just like the urchin across the street...playing with a distorted plastic bottle..each one of them is weaving a tale...watching them get killed by the continuous invasion of reality..and never losing heart..for they soon get engaged in creating a new one...

How come we stop relying on hope unlike these little men and women..how can we fail to ignite our imagination and refuse to create a little world..every time the break into pieces with the hard blow of dark reality...if morning shows the day..then each night leads to a bright morning too..

The little girl is now sitting on her fathers lap..the parents are engaged in practical discussion..the bus is speeding away...the city lights are hissing at us...I see her little eyes weaving yet another new story...as they wonder away through the hazy window pane..