Poem By AtreyaSarma Uppaluri
When a baby is bubbly with her smiles
And plays with herself like a cherub
We like to pick her up and cuddle
Not willing to pass it on to another.
The infant – feels much light on the arm.
When it cries and knows not how to say things
We pick her on our arms to sooth it for a while
Soon we look up to another to take it, in turn.
The tiny little one, now we feel, is heavy on our arms
What’s this funny relativity?
Can anyone explain with clarity?
Is it because –
When you’re elated – you’re on levity?
When you’re sombre – you’re under gravity?