Early childhood days. He was the one I ran to every time I needed something, some place warm, some place safe. If a bad dream shook me and woke me awake, he is the one I reach out to, his arms protecting me from the darkness of the world. Never once did he raise a finger at me. Never once did he give up on me. Frowns of worry would crinkle his face if I was a little unwell or upset. Never once did he shake me awake. Gentle whispers of my name or dewdrops from the rubber tree that grew outside our house was his way of opening my eyes. French toasts and spanish omelettes, rice cooked with an array of vegetables and spices, these were the things he loves to cook the most. Never once did he say no to what I have asked for, and asked for I have many. He toils, never complaining. Gives up on his dreams so that I can have mine.
Little quirks of his entertained me all through childhood. The way he would finish packets of food in the span of a few minutes much to the anger of my mother. The wa…
People tire me with their imperfections,
I can never love people in their entirety,
That is my biggest flaw,
Something which has only worsened with time.
It is not their flaws that tire me,
It is their attempt to hide them.
The way they stand, with their tails between their legs,
Their sheepish smiles as they distract me, or atleast try to.
'Don't!', I want to yell at them,
Screw the world and its addiction to happiness and rainbows,
Show me your cracks, your darkness,
And I will show you mine,
And together we will revel in the intimacy that comes,
From knowing the human side of each other.
But I keep quiet,
I am getting good at that, the silence,
I am starting to find it the right response to most questions these days.
I bury the frustration, the yearning,
I accept whatever little they have to give,
And return with even lesser of me.
They don't seem to notice though,
Fools, satisfied with so little.