Children would run behind
Dadaji on his bicycle.
Children of the hut dwellers
and those from the bungalows.
Dadaji ,a huge figure in black
with days old salt-pepper beard
in his long flowing shirt
hanging from behind the seat
and white broad pyjamas.
He would paddle away
on the same path
day after day
They would scream and shout
gleefully- “Dadaji”, “Dadaji”
and chase him over long distances,
till he tired and balancing his bicycle on a foot,
took out from his pocket
peppermints of bright colours
and gave to the children.
Hardly would he have started again,
