His strong long spider like hands

Chasing me a pair of big eyes,

Finding me under his grand desk,

Twisting my big ears-

Flinching as a small hare

Dangling from his big hands,

I, his precious daughter.

Its term end,summer vacation-

Visiting his older sister,

Those lantern nights, starry sky

His toothless aunts’ tales

Running over thin ridges,

Splashing muddy water, slipping

On ribs of ocher mud of paddy fields.

A rainy day, monsoon gusts lashing

On the coconut trees in the backyard,

A ream of paper reducing,

He’s an Aristotle writing out,

Urgency hanging around,

Through the rough tides of time, through storms and pleasant weather, you guided this little boat of mine, your precious daughter...

His secretary waiting,

Speech for public speaking

Some for own, rallies, meetings

One mine, for a debating competition.

Spiraling towers of cigarette smoke-

Him reclining on an easy chair,

Pondering, reading, muttering to self,

Scribbling in a book,

Me stealthily reading out his first drafts,

The many crumpled pages,

Stages and scenes of dramas,

Bin its new residence.

A midsummer sundown,

Urgent care room-

A frail old man, a triage nurse

A nasal tube, oxygen flows

He holds my tender hand,

A smile struggles to appear

Mask falls, stuttered words,

The blip blip of machines, a twitch

Teary eyed me and my young mother………

@Jayashree . P

 

Pic credits: Google