The Swing

Alone… that’s how I feel when I’m on the swings in the crowded park. There are a lot of kids there running around, laughing smiling and playing with each other, but I’m alone. My eyes see only him, laughing and pushing her higher on the other swing. I love him a lot, he means the world to me, yet he only sees her smiles. Maybe it is because she’s his first angel, my elder sister who I’m envious of in these moments.

I try to kick the ground and go higher, but my little feet can only do so much. I hear her delighted squeals as my dad pushes her swing and she reaches quite high. “Dad, push me too please”, I call to him. “Soon sweetheart…I’m coming”, he replies. I look at the ground and wait for him. I don’t know if he’ll ever come to push me higher. He says that all the time. I swing slowly, a tear coming out of my eyes but he doesn’t notice. He doesn’t even realize I’m there as they both walk out of the park, holding hands. Sometimes, sometimes I wish I hadn’t been born.

I decide against trying to swing higher. He’s never coming to push me toward the heights I want to reach. I just swing slowly, the tears now flowing out, but no one there to see them… no one to wipe them away. Then I feel a push, and I get higher. I squeal, both with fear and excitement. The wind takes me higher, higher than my dad had pushed my sister. The push is gone now, and I slow down, and using my feet, come to a standstill. I turn back, hoping to see him there.

There is no one, just the wind blowing strong. Was I mistaken? Was the push just an illusion of my mind? I turn back, but feel someone holding me tight. Some unknown hands hugging me, and the wind that whispers, “Don’t give up.”

I sit on the swing again. Once more, those unknown hands push me. I squeal as I get higher. Only now, the squeal is filled with joy. Someone is there to push me on… I realize I’m not alone. I can never stop hoping if I believe in the person I’m alone with. Maybe I’ll see those invisible hands someday, but till then, I’ll hold them and let them hold me.

I’ll fly with the wind. Dreams lie where desire takes shape, and I’ll desire to get there someday, knowing that I might be by myself, yet I’m never alone.

For Thursday Tales with image by andrewf1

Poetry & writing are to me, a breath of fresh air in a life that is sometimes covered by the smoke of sorrow or self doubt. They also become the sweets I share to celebrate when life offers me a reason to. But most of all, they are to me, my life. For each word I write is a piece of my heart, a thought that just had to find its way into the world.

14 thoughts on “The Swing”

  1. You can never be by yourself nor alone, coz someone up there is lovingly watching over you in everything you do and whatever are your dreams and thoughts, He knows!A beautiful tale Leo…:)

  2. Dear Vinu,Good Morning!I loved this story a lot!You reminded me of my childhood when we used to swing a lot of time on the swing hung on the branch of the mango tree!I always wanted to go higher and higher!Living in a joint family,having own siblings and cousins,the leisure time was always fun!Congrats for writing such a wonderful story! Sasneham, Anu

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