Snake charmer of my youth. Glancing back at the days of simplicity. I told my mama I’d be a snake charmer someday. I’d seduce mystical serpents and charm beautiful women.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” mother scolded. “You will become an important man and command the country with your very fist.”
In mama’s fragile, dark eyes, I can see the snake charmer bedazzling a crowd in the smoked sun. I can breath in the air of the bazaar. I can smell the scent of young women adorned in shimmering saris.
I’m in an office building as high as the blue heaven. In stature, I am an important state official as my mother prophesized. But I long to be the snake charmer casting a spell with my flute.