Father to a Son….

I stayed awake on your wet bed all night…
As you slept tight on my clean side

I rode a two wheeler all my life….
as you graduated from a tricycle to a bike

I spent hours of overtime at work….
as you burnt midnight oil to reach your turf….

I placed all my dreams on a backburner
as you rode high to pursue a flying career…

I ate half a bite to ensure home economy
while paying through to persue economics

But today…..

As you throw me out of your abode,
I stand in cold,bare foot ,on hold

As you feel I am an embarrasement to your elite existence
I walk aimlessly down the road feeling rotten,down trodden

You-with the thought on your mind” Oh Dad,Good riddance, you were such a burden”.
I-with one thought”May God bless your soul and you grow brighter under the Sun’.

Ah,this road leads us to nowhere and to no one.

But as your son peeps out of his window,bidding quiet farewell to his fab granddad

one thought lingers on in the air…..and that’s what the poetess thinks-

Would the history repeat itself
Would the justice ever be done?

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THE BOMBAY REVIEW - A Journal Of Literary Things.

“I’ve always admired the The Bombay Review for its eclectic content. Kaartikeya’s passion for words and literature shows in every issue.” – Ananth Padmanabhan, CEO HarperCollins India


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