The Cry!

Papa, So much to share, 

        But numbered are the days 
Can you not try, 

           And, extend your stay

Watery eyes, 

The formation of tears

And, his unflinching crusade to

Hide those shears

     Papa, w'll enjoy these three days

Let the future sink

      I see his struggle to

       Internalize the link

Papa, I understand the crux

       But, cannot fathom the brute

Why God is so unkind

 Why doesn't HE root

 Papa, I long for the feel

   The intertwined fingers

     But, Empty is the bed

             The smell of yours lingers

       Papa, I stare at the ruckles      

    Wallowing at my plight

        My shrills get drowned

              Amidst the dreary night

Papa, can you not fix

     Help me win this fight

     Motionless, I stand

        Oh son, I love you

                 I hug him tight.........

( During my return, after my term break, from my home location, my son's insistent cry left me in a bitter state. The way one forces oneself to unshackle, momentarily, the love grips of near ones, to chase ones aspirations can be shattering - I know it's all about the greater benefit, but hands on heart, at times, it kills.....the intangible stakes are equally high for a mba. I dedicate this to my son, but may be likewise applicable for our mom, wife, husband; sorry, if the post got a bit grim....)

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