By Annanya Gupta
An unknown world,
Yet to be discovered.
Left to get uncovered!
A bundle of joy
behind a small body.
A soul so admirable,
Unfortunately inviting catastrophe.
He wants to unveil everything, A book, a shoe, a face
As if the whole world is meant for him It is only his place.
Such pleasing people around him, He wants to jump in every lap. All he knows that it's his world, Enjoying every moment with a clap.
Shushh! Don't disturb him.
He's on his venture.
Dreaming of what the world is like? Disclosing his adventure.
9 months he has felt trapped, Now it is time to expose the world. A beautiful yet cruel place,
He'll know it with his pace.
Attractive eyes, innocent smile
Beautiful is his heart.
Anyone who'll show love to him,
He'll let them play a part.
What is kept on that shelf?
He'll throw everything down!
He's got a black mind!
Don't stop him he's not bound.
Seeing you stand on your feet,
He'll try standing too.
Realising his feet not strong enough, He'll retry until he wins too.
What are these little things on my fingers whom am yet unknown to?
So what he'll do to use them is,
One scratch on your face and one on his too!
He can cry and cry for hours
Not everyone will understand him though! Its just one who gave birth to him, Her one hand will be busy feeding milk The other on the dough.
His daily talks are incredible!
Everyday he says something new.
He's learning with quite the speed. He loves doing peekaboo!
He has many imaginary friends,
Some of them are Ricky, bicky and cheeku. Trust me he loves to play with them, Everyday, without any ado!
So many stuff toys he has with him, One white, one yellow, and one blue! Beautiful they all are!
At this age, they all seem so true.
A bus, a car, a doll,
He'll play with whatever he wants to. Try saying no to him,
And he'll deny to wear his favourite shoe!
His little hands are growing now, So does his toe,
He can stand on his feet now.
He can walk to and fro.
He'll not eat everything now,
He's a little naughty too,
No cereal, no fruits, no ice cream, He wants chocolate and to drink bru.
Fear, anger, hatred,
Are not his cup of tea!
Small though he seems to be,
But quite joyous he looks to me!
By Annanya Gupta