I saw a girl,
On a walk one day.
With light eyes,
The colour of hay.
She wore good clothes,
And decent enough shoes.
I couldn’t guess how old she was,
As her face gave no clues.
Her built was slim,
Though she had rosy cheeks.
But she looked worn out,
As though working for weeks and weeks.
She had somewhat a tearful look,
Which set me wondering why,
Because she looked like from a good family,
Then why would she want to cry?
I didn’t want to intrude her privacy,
But I was really curious.
I asked her ‘Why are you sad?’,
Half expecting her to get furious.
But instead she stared at me,
As tough she saw a ghost.
‘Aren’t you Nandita?’ She slowly asked,
Hey, She was Payal, my ‘Bachpan ke dost’
She looked so different,
From what she looked like.
We used to play together,
In my little bike.
After a while I again asked her,
About the sad look which she had.
But she brushed it aside,
By just a wave of her hand.
I decided to drop the question,
And build up a chirpy talk.
And the rest of the evening was filled with fun,
As we continued our walk.