Not too far off, just till the day when I recognized you,

Daddy, you are my hero in merry and pain,

Your index finger that I held during the walks on dew,

The little stories that you said of kings and queens,

I remember even the whacks that you gave for my future,

So many memories daddy, that has made me what I am now,

Many a good things that you had for me went unseen,

You are my first admirer for all the little poems I author,

You have always been the source for me to feel endow.

Daddy, you are my guide for me to learn this world,

In every walk of life, I have felt your strong shoulder safeguarding,

You have been with me whenever my dreams whirled,

And always told me that there would be something better waiting,

Dawn to dusk I have bathed in your love,

Like a prodigal daughter unfathomed, I have brushed you aside,

But yet like a guardian angel you have always bestowed blessings,

You have always been there for me and so no one shoved,

Dad, with you besides me, my life has always been a joyride,

If not for you daddy there would have never been these writings.

Both of us stand waiting,

Not for showers of rain,

Or blessings from heaven,

But for a piece of Dosa,

That the small road-side vendor would throw,

The anticipation was would victory be mine or dog’s,

If it be dog’s, he would put it on the road and eat,

If mine I would give to my kid there on the platform.

Everyday this is my routine,

My tough war with the brown dog,

I have no strength to shoo him away,

And grab the bounty thrown by the vendor,

I leave my kid on the platform waiting with hunger,

If a Dosa change shape or become burnt,

Me or the dog is in luck,

We wait eagerly looking at the vendor’s hand,

There are days when the vendor never has a mishap,

When both me and the dog curse our luck.

Today might not be so,

Praying all the God’s that I know,

I was sitting along with the dog,

Looking carefully at the vendor’s hands,

For a long time there was no luck,

Suddenly hearing the screech of the pan,

I was assured a burnt dosa,

With all concentration I looked at the vendor,

The throw was perfect and so was the catch,

The dog caught the Dosa, while death caught me.

To get that one mouth of burnt Dosa for my kid,

I fell before a bus with the Dosa in my hand,

Just to see the dog grab it away from me,

As the unfair luck smiled at me,

Letting me die and my kid hungry and motherless…

And get ready to join my father,

After a long walk with my silent dad,

We pass through a park,

Where we stop to begin our routine,

My friend Rahul and his dad jog past us,

I hear him whisper to his dad,

He is my classmate

And his father, replied Don't talk to such boys,

Unmindful of what we heard, I help my dad,

We finish our work on that spot and move on.

Hot scorching Sun doesn't stop my dad nor me,

We walk bare footed on the hot tar road,

Passing one destination after the other,

As we walk our bags become heavier and heavier,

Watching my dad walk unmindful of the weight,

Had made me also bear everything,

From the comments to the weight of my bag.

We stop by on a road side shop for lunch,

Just opposite to the busy road,

Is a small restaurant, which my dad dotes on,

He says one day he has to have a cup of coffee there,

It would not cost more than five rupees,

But just that he would not think of spending that amount for himself,

Heat of the Sun doesn't alter my dad and me, we continue.

By noon we start to reiterate our path,

The same bins that we picked in morning were full now,

My dad relentlessly digs in the stench filled dustbins,

To find his bounty, but he never lets me to do it,

He says, Son let this end with me

By dusk we get back to the shop to weigh our collection,

All day's work just to earn less than hundred rupees.

On our way back, my dad said,

Son one day I want to see you with your son,

Like your friend Rahul and his dad not like us

I know my dad, he works all day picks rags on roads,

Saves money for my future,

No big dreams I carry other than,

One, to take my dad for a cup of coffee in that restaurant.

I work hard to bring centum on my cards,

Just to earn my dad that one cup of coffee.

Pitch dark, alone, silent,
Slowly he creeps in my room,
But wanders here and there,
Unwilling to get into form,
An itch in my mind,
A lustrous desire to take him in,
And enjoy wonderful pleasures,
But he refuses.

He was strong in my heart,
Shapeless, yet refusing form,
He moves weirdly,
Making me restless with pain,
Time passes by,
Threatens to leave me alone,
My plea is heard finally,
Promises to stay.

Eyes closed wait for him,
Peaceful mind clear of thoughts,
Slowly yet forcefully he gets in,
Mind completely rejuvenated,
I take him in fully,
To create a beautiful creature,
Few minutes of pain and pleasure,
To form a complete creation.

After endless pleasure,
Beads of sweat,
Trails down my forehead,
My paper complete,
End of a creation,
Ready for my readers…

They can give them loads and loads of money,
But would it be equal to their presence?
Or like a hand to wipe off their tears.

Another old woman walked slowly with her walking stick,
Boarded the van, waved goodbye to her granddaughter,
Wiped away her tears and said, “you be good to your mom”

I thought of the irony and her pain,
Why this poor state, will they ever see happiness?
Green signal for me, they still stood in red…