parents

The spoiled youngest child do care about what you say, y’know!!

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Some days I wake up
to my mom rushing around
or my dad at his office table
or sometimes with both of them with a frown

And just while I am having
a lazy moment of haze
They throw something angry at me
and it will force me in this faze

It would be something like “You don’t care for me”
or ” You will only wake up when I am dead”
but these phrases instantly go all the way to my brain
and I leave my state of dreamy happiness in vain

I know that they might not mean it really
or have said it in a burst of temporary exasperation
But even for the most disobedient careless child
they could pierce all the way to the heart; these crazy suggestions

At night these thoughts and remarks make me uneasy
and I check up on them while they sleep
I squint my eyes and see their bellies rising and falling in the dark
and only with this daily ritual can I fall back asleep

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A dejected child

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Why did they never feel,

the same pleasure as they did

(when the elder sister was

amongst the standing ovation

proclaimed as a successful engineer)

when they saw her first painted Vase.

 

Why did they not encourage her

to try new mediums and buy new supplies

Rather she tried to found new ways to stir

any interest in their eyes.

For her “waste of time” career

which they despised.

 

Today she stands in her gallery

Amidst a huge crowd of admirers

and yet she feels so dispirited inside

Because even though she is

a renowned artist, there is no one

from the family, to receive her tonight.

#Project2014: A post a month (Feb) : Let’s not stay in contact anymore

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Yes, it was
a decision of mine,
I know
It takes away my right to whine.

But I like each day
to refresh my inbox for a stray,
Mail to make its appearance
everyday.

It seems the people of their words,
Forfeit the rights to do much, explore much.
In our unspoken promise to uphold
honour, we lose the will to be bold
anymore.

Getting lost in a wedding

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So I was getting really awfully bored and I thought, Let’s think of a blog post! And here it is!!!!!

Well we all have our moments of glory when we get lost and when found, it is like we are the most loved person ever on the face of the Earth with all the crying and hugging going on (but the glory is short lived, so enjoy it while it lasts :D).

So my first time as a lost child came at the time when I was quite young and thus have no account of it, however my family, like all families, has repeated this story in front of family and friends so many times, offered like a piece of snack, but it never loses its crunch, because Dad always acts it out along while narrating it.

So it happened at Dad’s friend’s son wedding, whereby the responsibility of looking after all the three kids was solely on my Mom’s shoulder. It was sometime before my mom noticed along with my sister, that I was missing. They started searching for me but I was nowhere to be found and it was precisely at this time, when food was announced to be served. There was a mass movement towards the nearest food tables and the job of searching for a child amidst this huge crowd became even more excruciating. It was at this time that my  Mom, sister and brother ran, almost in hysterics towards my dad. My dad at this point in time, had decked his plate to enormous length with his favourite Sheekh kababs and had a difficult time deserting it.

All these four people went to the guard who confirmed that no child could escape the marriage lawn under his watchful eyes and that they should go and check the fountain. It was precisely by the fountain they found me,( I always knew I had sharp eyes for aesthetics) and thus I was hugged and passed along and then kissed some more, while I was totally ignorant to what havoc I caused.

Unfortunately, after this episode, my parents just deserted the food, and everyone came back home 😀

Parent’s love

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A father wrote this for his daughter:

eliza is the most brightest of the color in my life,how could i not but put her high and prominant on my canvas,

she is the most shining jewel of my crown,how can i not but polish her and keep her unscratched.

she is like the rainbow in my life, how could i not but make it rain again and again to make her bright and whole.

she is like a warm,deep enveloping pleasure which wrap itself around me to make me whole.

I see in her a piece,a broken remnant of my soul,how could i not but appreciate the beauty of my soul which has disentangled itself from me and now resides with her.

Perchance in her I see something which time snatched from me and instead God supplied me that moment back,with an exceeding esctacy, the value of that moment only i know…