Puffs of heaven are adding grace to lawns, compelling the kids to leave cozy chambers to move out enjoying nature's grace. From the balcony kids appear like angels playing with sinless curtains of winter like their own innocence. Their little hands press the soft puffs to make balls and throw at each other depicting a war scene. A group making balls and the other utilising them to pull down their counterparts. They hide behind a car standing still in the lawn, a similar depiction they often watch on silver screen at the crime scene. Those snow balls were made to aim at the backs of fighters unlike pellets hitting eyes. These kids seemed conscious at least from the distance of human rights, they neither violated the rights of their counterparts,nor enjoyed a fall like most of the men in 'uniform'.
The chill of winter from balcony seemed bone breaking, yet these angels of peace were ignoring the severe spell of pain. The severity of chill was occasionally kissing the red palms busy in shaping the balls . The evidence of which was obvious with a frequent movement of their hands reaching to their mouths to beat the pain on fingers. A hot blow, involuntary rubbing and placing the beaten palms in the depths of armpits. The thrill down in the lawn from balcony was different. Difference was devotional. The soldiers on that stainless carpet of innocence were indeed 'guardian of peace'. What pasted a satisfied smile on my cheeks was not my being a spectator of thrill, but the team spirit. A boy was hit, he rolled his tender mass, others felt he was hurt. The fight stopped, everyone rushed to rescue the fallen angel. Difference had long been dissolved, the fall was rich in texture unlike an autumnal leaf that vanishes on reaching under the boots. The stillness of the soldiers broke into pieces like an icicle recently hitting the ground, fading into fluid when the boy surprised all by pulling one more angel down. The fall this time was deliberate, for thrill at least what I could understand from a distance.
A group of kids who were not interested in playing 'encounter' set their skill to bedeck the snow. Snow man, devils, birds and what not were raised above ground level to explore the folds of mind. An occasional cry from indoors disturb the artists who ignore the warning calls. The thrill down the lawn made the snowfall an occasion to celebrate.
The firing of other group had already stopped . They merrily joined the artists to make the occasion large. It was indeed wonderful to watch how kids explore their latent potential when allowed to let their hearts beat freely.
A push here, a nudge there electrified the scene where kids raised and helped others to culminate the art. It appeared as if in anticipation they knew the trick of life . That a detached a branch here and tossed roof there, portraying life as a continuous struggle. Those brisk steps on the snow cover were similar to those foot prints impressed on the blazing sand with a little difference. Sand and snow are contradictory companions , hence longevity and impermanence had well established a barrier. Those random footsteps on the snow down the lawn had disturbed the serenity of the snow like a 'might' which mutilates a mass beyond repairs.
When the snowman finally got ready to exhibit human existence on ground level, it was now time to add attires suitable to make it like human figure with all sorts of things on like an artist in his art room readily allowing his imaginations to stroll freely.
Just after makeup session ended, out came cell phones to capture the scene. Snow selfies, snowman still, and group pictures were clicked endlessly to preserve the hard work. The session brought out another significant aspect at fore. The poses were both possessive and ridiculous. Favourite replicas and loathsome postures besides self created poses and natural stills were saved, secrutinused and replaced with little adjustments to please and surprise elders who always poke their pointed nose into the affairs of kids , who love to hide things and achievements from 'experience'.
The little kids returned to their cozy chambers and a sharing session made it wonderful. In the photos these kids really looked like angels brought down to make fun. Sharing is indeed caring. From the kitchen window, the snowman appeared devoid of feeling. It was alone in the lawn like a freshly buried corpse in the graveyard who was left there for the mercy of his Lord after his loving ones dumped him never to return. The one in soil vanishes secretly and the one in the lawn openly. Between this public and private world, one stands alone like the snowman in the background revealing harsh facts of human existence.