Barefoot

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.