“Aunty, the ball fell in your garden.”
This girl said, knocking on my gate this evening. I had gone outdoors with a mug of tea and a book to read. But their game had gotten interesting and soon enough, I was engrossed. I saw so much of myself in her. I was this little girl at one point. Playing Cricket amongst a group of big boys, I was always the fielder. So when the Ball was hit into that scary Aunty’s backyard, the fielder had to go get it. Quickly I’d run off, jump in and out of the garden in seconds. I could beat a dog at ‘fetch’ quite literally. I had mastered it and this was the easy part. The difficulty came up when that lady was sitting there with a cup of tea. Or that’s what the boys thought. They would’ve disappeared from the field while I was still chasing after the ball. The tiny and little me couldn’t see her till I had already jumped into the backyard.
“Aunty, the ball fell in your garden.” I’d say.
She’d give me the ball and even help me up the wall again. The boys never understood how I managed to break her, and I never understood why they were terrified.
Maybe She saw herself in me, I thought as I let this girl in, to collect her ball today.