The Swing

   It was weekend. The whole family – my mom, dad, paternal grandma, cousin sister, cousin brother, aunt and uncle, my dad’s sister (my aunt again), Ash (my 2^nd cousin) and myself – had planned to go to the Creek Park.

   It was around 4:00 in the evening when we were all sitting on the nice cool grass – not exactly, because we had actually spread a cloth on the grass and then sat on it – after taking our lunch. After a little time I got bored and started looking around as usual. My eyes caught sight of the old play area for kids some distance ahead. Suddenly, out of nowhere I found this very childish part of me screaming, “I wanna play in the swing! I wanna play in the swing!” The next thing I know is that I had run all the way to the play area where all the slides and swings and children were present.

   To my disappointment, I saw very few children out there. It wasn’t like how I used to come here when I was a kid. I looked around wondering where all the kids were and what I saw took me aback. Most of them were busy with their mobiles or PSP while some were bullying their much younger siblings. Now here, I’m talking about kids who are in kindergarten and primary. The even more shocking part was that their parents weren’t paying any attention to these kids.

   Anyways, I went to my favorite spot – the swing. There were hardly more than two children playing here. I sat on one of the swings that was vacant and I started swinging happily to and fro. In fact I could almost touch the rod at the top with my feet. It felt awesome, the wind rushing against and the colour rushing back to your face. I felt much healthier.

   After some time I noticed that there was no one around me, except for a small Arab boy around the age of 6 sitting on the opposite swing. I noticed that he wasn’t enjoying like how I was. He looked very sad and lonely. It looked like he did not know how to swing and wanted someone to give him a push. His eyes followed my movement with an expression of intense longing to go as high as I can. Looking at this, the part of me that still belonged to the child I was, smiled with joy – “See? I can almost reach the branch of the tree. Can you?” He kept looking at me for a long time and I began to feel sorry for him, I wanted to help the little boy.

   I slowed down and landed on my feet lightly and quite gracefully. He lowered his gaze as soon as I turned to him. I walked up to him and kneeled down so that I can come to his level of height. He tried not to look at me but my eyes were fixed on his, trying to make him look at me.

“What is your name” I asked, trying to sound as sweet and sister-like as possible. I did not want the kid to run away.

“Ameen” he replied, shyly.

“Where are your parents?”

“I don’t know” he shrugged. He did not look at me.

I didn’t know what to say. I looked around for his mother or father but saw no one who was aware of this 
boy’s existence. I looked at him again and smiled.

“Do you want me to give you a push? Do you want to swing high like how I did??” I asked.

   He looked up at me for the first time. At first I thought he was scared. But then his face lit up and he smiled and gave a little nod. I smiled at his excitement and said –

“Hold on tight, you are gonna go on a new ride!” trying to sound cheerful.

   And I kept giving him a little push as he soared high, swinging back and forth, laughing and shouting happily. I have never felt this kind of happiness before. This was different, the happiness I got from this. It reminded me of how my mom used to do the same thing when I was a small child. How I used to laugh and be so happy.

   I did not know how the time passed as we played there. But my mom beckoned me from where our group sat and I had to go. I bid him goodbye and he too waved back. As I was going back, I saw that he had learnt at last how to swing on his own. I could see that he was thoroughly enjoying himself. I don’t know whether his parents or guardian turned up but one part of me did not want to leave him all alone there.