An Ode to Afternoon

“Morning eludes it;

Evening disowns it;

Poets ignore it.”

An Afternoon has just a past- the past of being a morning. It neither has the hypnotism of sunrise, nor the charm of chirping birds. Tea’s fragrance has already eroded and it has no memory of beloved’s embrace that a morning is blessed with.

Unlike night, it doesn’t have hope of dawn to live upon.  To worsen its plight, dusk keeps it devoid of kaleidoscope that it sets in the sky. What waits is a dull series of hours that has apparently neither lively present- nor a glorious future.

 But it stands- upright, bold and bald- upholding the day on its shoulders. In its dullness, it weaves spells of liveliness.

It is afternoon when a mother awaits for her son to return from school so that she could treat him his favourite dish in lunch. It is afternoon when the little princess wants to reach home soon so that she could tell her mother, “Ma’am wrote GOOD on my painting!!”

It is afternoon during his post lunch nap when a boy dreams to be the best cricketer of his country and a girl dreams to travel the space. It is this time when the little girl would play with her dolls- marries them off and would dream about her own  prince charming who will someday defeat the demons to take her to a land of her dreams.

It is afternoon when grandparents sing lullabies to the newborn- exclaiming how the kid resembles his father. It is now in these dull series of hours, the old couple will find the silence to echo the nostalgia that they have earned by living together for a lifetime. It is afternoon when pickles are left in sun to bask so that bhindis, karelas and kaddus can be eaten up readily!!

Credit: Gransnet

Afternoon it is when plans are implemented- for the morning is always too early and evening is always too late. It is afternoon when a realization of dreams takes place. It is afternoon when a farmer rests in his farms waiting for his son to bring food. That’s afternoon when husbands open their lunchboxes in offices to feel the aroma of their wife’s care.

In the afternoon an actor reaches the auditorium to have final rehearsals for the evening show- whose applause not only enriches his ears but also his soul. It is afternoon when the factories give a final swing to production for the evening dispatch.

It is afternoon when a young couple shops for their wedding. It is this time, scorched with sun, when they seek respite in café- when he will realize how lovely she looks even when the make up is gone and she will notice how stupidly can he eat…just to make her smile.

Morning is too juvenile, evening too melancholic and night too deceptive. It is the afternoon that has all the flavours of the day and still has none. While night has sensuality, afternoon has a selfless concern. While dawn and dusk are mere destinations, afternoon is an eternal journey- mature& methodical yet mesmerizing and mystical.

It is afternoon for which the dawn breaks;

It is this memory with which dusk sets;

If there is anything that equals-

The exact meaning of the day-

Ladies and Gentlemen- it is Afternoon.

Have a great afternoon ahead!! 
Keep Smiling!! Team GoodWill

4 thoughts on “An Ode to Afternoon

  1. Very well written and articulated.
    We often forget the importance of unnoticed.

    Thanks for sparing a thought towards the ignored afternoon!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you so much Mayank. We are glad you could relate with this.
      Keep Smiling.
      Regards,
      Team Goodwill!

      Like

  2. It’s afternoon the poets often naps, till afternoon passes out of his maps,
    Seldom remain some awake and set, to fill like afternoon the poetic lapse.

    Very beautifully written!
    Keep finding the untapped afternoons.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Whoa…how we wish this was included in the write up. Now thats a great (and poetic) improvisation!!

      Thanks Hemank, Keep Smiling.

      Regards, Team GoodWill.

      Liked by 1 person

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