Why A Little Girl?

By Reedhima Tyagi

“Make a wish”, he says.

“A wish?” I mutter “I want to be a little girl again.” “Why a little girl?”, he is intrigued by my wish. “Because the last time I was held,

I was a little girl

The last time I was kissed,

I was a little girl

The last time it was okay for me to not understand things, I was a little girl

The last time I slipped my hand in my father's,

I was a little girl

The last time my day did not pass in a blur,

I was a little girl

The last time I felt giddy with excitement,

I was a little girl

The last time I laughed so big that all the stars and the moon poured in my mouth,

I was a little girl

The last time my mother caressed me to sleep,

I was a little girl

The last time I heard the cry of souls and saw smiles mellow as cotton candy,

I was a little girl

The last time I found a friend in someone unloved and ugly, I was a little girl

The last time I remember being a little girl,

I was a little girl,” I completed.

By Reedhima Tyagi