Papa, So much to share,
But numbered are the days
Can you not try,
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....)
