Flip

A plastic bag

With an empty pizza box

peeping out of it

He clung to it dearly

He sat on the steps

of a posh colour lab

His blue jeans not too old

His white T-shirt muddy

Beard of two months

Cheeks shrunken

He muttered something

put his hand gingerly in the bag

Out came a small empty pet bottle

Smelt it and laid it aside

A smile crossed his face

Next came a plastic tumbler

Droplets of coloured liquid in it

He suddenly laughed and laughed

a laugh between a belly laugh

and a throat laugh

He crossed the line not too back

Soon his dress would wear off

Digamabar (sky clad) he would walk

Flip he did

Sorrow or anger who knows?

We all flip time and again

Anger or sorrow

Pain others

His grace pulls us back

From the thin line

I would have flipped

When my son died

He pulled me back

Could I still….

Who knows?

K.V. Radhakrishnan