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…
The pitter patter of raindrops falling onto the ground,
A lullaby for the sleepy.
Outside, paddy fields have transformed,
Into endless lakes of blue.
Storms rage on every night,
Flashes of light and thunder,
Sending my heart into a flutter.
April April, won't you end fast,
And put an end to my misery.