Courtesy: Poets United
Once we took our VIIIth Grade students to a picnic. We hired a bus to take us to the spot. The day was bright so were our girls. During the journey even the shiest ones were also coming out of their shells. They had brought a music system with them with a plan to shake legs when opportunity came. It was no potluck food festival so the cooking was to be done by teachers taking occasional help from the girls if they wished. The bus meandered through the narrow road in between the vast wavy rice fields. The bird watcher that I am was excited to see from the bus window hanging nests of baya birds from date palm trees. The occasional green ponds here and there were spotted with duck families swimming with all the time in the world. Then we arrived at beautiful Saranbari, our chosen spot for the day. Ah, it was indeed a slice of green tranquility.
Our girls began to get down one by one. The moment they touched the ground they were transformed into butterflies. Believe me, it is true. They spread all over the place fluttering their wings. Some hugged trees and some soft tiny grass flowers that bloomed on the pond banks scaring the wits out of the little black cormorants that flew off to nearby trees with probably pounding hearts. They had never seen such noisy butterflies in their whole bird life. Some of these highly stung pretty winged souls were into a singing contest with song birds with their Bollywood numbers blaring out from their music system. How did we feel? Can’t say. Sadly and gladly we the teachers remained as we were, humans, happily burdened with the task to make our excited butterflies stay safe with their wings intact and feed them with non veg. nectar. A few of them folded their wings and joined us lending their hands to our surprise. Aw…such motherly golden souls they were! However at sundown all had to return to their old form to remain once again “…long in city pent*”
Pearly day
With rainbow glow
I cherish
*from the title of Keats’ sonnet “To One Who Has Long Been In City Pent”
Posted for Susan’s Midweek Motif ~ Picnic @ Poets United
sumanar/lekha 
Beautiful scene, Sumana.
Nature can refresh like no other, where enjoying it directly or vicariously.
joy, beauty, nature and poetry flows all through….. and I see the butterflies fluttering their wings joyously around! loved it!
You took me to a splendid picnic: I saw the birds and rice and butterflies in “a slice of green tranquility.” If only youth could swim like ducks “with all the time in the world” and not have to transform back at sundown. I will cherish this poem as the narrator does the day!
How lovely it is to walk into a new and beautiful world and experience such a satisfied feeling. This is a beautiful haibun Sumana.
Let them fly like butterflies whilst they can! As we watch we know that freedom can be spreading our wings, singing, dancing and also watching on and cooking food – a feast of a scene..
Aah to run around and hug trees like a child.. tragic to lose that delightful innocence.
How absolutely lovely, Sumana. I adore that the girls alighted from the bus butterflies. What a shimmering memory…….just wonderful to read and envision.
This is so beautiful. You painted such a lovely picture with your words that I could clearly see those girls turning into butterflies on reaching the picnic spot 🙂
Oh I can see those butterflies. What a wonderful memory Sumana. A treasure.
Sigh ❤ this is such a beautiful and serene piece 😀
Lots of love,
Sanaa
I just loved your haibun! Your description of the children as butterflies was perfection. It matched your image perfectly I felt as if I were there.
Butterflies and children…the original tree-huggers!
I could really see this. The day, the sunshine, the girls as butterflies. Very nice.
Children make days magical don’t they? Your haibun so well told Sumana
Beautiful haibun….and those gorgeous butterflies with multicolored pinions add more avidity to the poem. Love this, Sumana!
Some of these highly stung pretty winged souls were
into a singing contest with songbirds with their Bollywood
numbers blaring out from their music system.
They would remember it all their life. The teachers sacrificed some quality time with them. But to them, it was the time of their life. Not many youngsters were privileged. Only far-sighted teachers were willing to do this. A noble thought fulfilled, Sumana!
Hank
Lovely.. a throwback to simpler times wonderfully penned
What a beautiful ethereal poem, Sumana. This is a different style than your usual, and I like it. I loved the poem’s progression….I hardly noticed the journey into fantasy, as all images seemed so very real.
Lovely haibun. What a memorable experience for you and the girls. School should have more excursions like that.