Asha

She has big hazel eyes

that stare back at me

with mesmerized wonder

through my camera lens

Later I’ll learn that she’s never seen such a thing before.

Her long black hair is tied into a braid

but little curls fall out next to the baby hair

framing her deep caramel skin

half-covered by a stunning orange silk dupatta

Later I’ll learn that the silk is covering a terrible scar.

I stare at her tiny hands

as they beat effortlessly on the drums

she was always meant to play

because she was just born that way

Later I’ll learn she may never know how to read or write.

The smile that stretches across her face is miles long

and little lines line her eyes

with the mischievous laughter

of little children

Later I’ll learn her marriage has been arranged.

I kiss the dimple on her cheek and say goodbye

and she whispers in soft Hindi in my ear

that she wants to be a doctor too

some day

Later I’ll learn that her name is Asha. Hope.