Eyes bright, darkly sparkling, there’s a smile in there.
Umesh, my bhai, my brother,
How much fun, how much laughter, how much mischief,
Have we had, we have.
In Project Why’s Special Section.
A young man, who knows how old, he was 15 for three years,
From the slums of Delhi, born and bred, proud.
With a deep, throaty, wicked laugh, an eye for fun,
A trickster who loves to have fun.
Every day spent with Umesh is a fun day to remember.
Yet dark clouds scud by his eyes sometimes,
An unhappyness lurking deep inside, a thought nobody can know,
Such is normality for everyone.
Yet he might have more reason but doesn’t.
He was born with Cerebral Palsy.
Difficulty talking, hands that don’t work as he wants,
The moment he wants to stay still bits move on their own,
Be still bhai, no, just laugh, it is fine.
We don’t talk in the same tongue,
Yet we share a language, an unspoken link,
An understanding, a cerebral connection,
He is after all my bhai.
Continents and worlds apart we couldn’t have more,
Differences, but we don’t, similar souls,
Swimming against the current of misunderstanding,
We swim together, bhais of mischief.
Umesh my friend, my bhai.