Yesterday, I reflected on why I end up barefoot or choosing footwear that is as open to elements as possible. Time and again, people have pointed this out to me. This happened yesterday, too, when I walked to the High Street in my flip-flops, and someone asked me, "Aren't your feet cold?" I smiled. Let it pass. Then, I reflected.
This has always been me whenever I can - duty room, home and, of course, in the park. Penny dropped today during a random exchange of messages with Pash, starting with the Pakeeza song - chalte chalte yunhi koi mil gaya tha...
He becomes my teacher by making me look in the mirror and comprehend my resolved and unresolved heart yearnings!
The feminine in me
goes for all that's natural
I love to keep
my feet bare
not restrain
or keep them under cover
or safe over a weather-hardened sole;
I let them feel
assurance of firm ground
I let them feel
feather-light promise of fresh air
they can sense and taste
earthly smell that emanates
after a hearty soak of rain
I run, dance and walk
barefoot in the park
sans constrain
when on a stroll
feeling firm on the ground I tread
when pebbles prick and prod
my feet can take the hurt
to feel the sore
then heal
and walk further afar
wee bit more....
with miles ahead on stretch
who knows
when final milestone will lay ahead
very close.
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