Little Things

Did he notice the evening primroses? No.

Did he notice the first evening star? No.

Did he even notice his own daughter’s beauty

or whether there was brownie on his plate or blancmange?


Everyday little things were inconsequential to him;

he was blind to many of the ordinary pleasures of life.


She, however, was acutely aware of the irretrievability of time,

she cherished the fleeting moments in life:

lusciously perfumed lilies and paperwhites

the generous moon in the thick of November

the crunch of autumn leaves beneath her feet

her breath fogging the windowpane

flipping through sepia-tinted albums

reminiscing memories of yore


It filled her with exquisite pleasure!

Her days ended in happy exhaustion.


One afternoon,

an aeroplane whizzed through the sky,

it left a beautiful contrail:

“God is Now Here,” she gestured excitedly.

“God is No Where,” he remarked nonchalantly.


                                                                                                                                     ~ Swati Moheet Agrawal

                                                                                                                                                      Mumbai, India

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