Mithoo skipped and hopped on the wet pavement
she was on her way to school.
Wet weather, wet ground saw a lot of snails everywhere,
they were on the ground, on the hedge and on the walls.
Lovely colours their shells were,
some orange, some twirly whirly and some plain brown.
What caught Mithoo’s eyes was a snail with a pink shell,
her favourite colour after all.
The snail was at the edge of the pavement about to climb the wall!
Oh! asked Mithoo “Mamma where are the snails off too? Are they going to a snail school?”
When Mamma said maybe, Mithoo was keen to meet the pink snail’s family.
“Some other time dear, we are running late!”, said Mamma.
Again back from school on the same path,
Mithoo meets the pink snail at the same spot.
She stopped, she peeked, she looked intently.
The snail lay dead still.
“Why doesn’t the pink snail go home?”
“Let’s take the snail to our home, she isn’t going to hers anyway!”
Oh! no, thought Mamma.
“Well she needs to go home, her parents would be looking out for her!”, said Mamma.
It rained and poured all night long and the ground was the wettest ever.
The next day when Mithoo went she met the snail at the same spot, now dead and gone forever.
Oh!, wept Mithoo “Now it will never meet her mom again!”
It was such a tiny thing it might have met its fate under a trampling feet!
But for Mithoo it was the prettiest creature to die in a heart beat.
Death so grim and so fast doesn’t even spare the prettiest of us,
it works in a flash and takes all without a fuss.