CHEEKY KID

...my story, my teeming young eight-year life - Seth

In the courtyard, one paw of the lion-footed tub gleams in the sun. Warm pails of water hauled from our distant well. For this shiny wet form, I'll pay in gold. Under a scorching sky, I list my mischief:

I hid his picture

when he was tough on me,

spilled kerosene on peepal tree roots,

smashed the glass to slim

my reflection,

the nickname he gave is not my own, yet I love it.

A cushioned stool with a silken seat by the tub, on it, my armour made of bone.

Stepping from the water, wrapped in a damp jute towel -

I startle awake

in my dim room. Dad shadowing at the door.