Sunday, November 25, 2012

Slipping Through My Fingers

A picture is worth a thousand words they say.
But this one's worth a million.
Just yesterday was her first birthday.
My princess, my darling, my baby.
I still remember that day.
She was dressed in my favorite color.
She was dressed in Yellow.

Today she has grown up.
My princess, my darling, my baby.
Is no more a baby.
She is stubborn, headstrong and silly.
Just like me.
The tiny little tot that she once was.
She was so very mellow.

I loved her then.
I love her now.
I'll love her till the end.
I love her for her madness.
I'll love her till she forgets her sadness.
I'll love her till her heart fills with gladness.
I love her just the way she is.

She fills my life with laughter.
She drives me mad by her endless chatter.
She took me back to my youth.
When life wasn't lived by the book.
She taught me that it is okay to cry.
She takes me by my hand.
She makes me dance like I am in some band.

She reminds me of her.
The beautiful lady I wed.
They look so alike.
I am glad they both are mine.
She is nothing like her.
Yet, I love my little girl for being her.
She adds life to my years.

I remember plaiting her hair daily.
And packing her bags and walking her to school lazily.
Soon I'd walk her down the aisle too.
All that would remain are the memories.
My little girl and her lovely stories.
Each time I think I'm close to knowing.
She keeps on growing.

Do I know what she feels?
Does she breathe the same fears I breathe?
Do I know what's in her mind?
Does she know what's in mine?
Do I know if she's happy?
Does she know if I am?
Do we know anything at all?

Very soon my little princess will be gone.
To another lad with whom her heart belongs.
I hope he treats her like a queen.
And never makes her heart bleed.
I'll pretend to the world I'm fine.
When my girl slips out of my shrine.
She made my home so divine.

I'm afraid that day may come too soon.
And my little girl will be gone too soon.
I'll hide my fears and my tears.
'Coz I don't want to let her know.
Her happiest day may just be my saddest.
She won't be home fooling around anymore.
She'd be under someone else's roof, she with her madness.

I'll miss my little girl too much.
Slipping through my fingers all the time.
I gently sit down for a while.
I feel I'm gonna lose her forever.
I'm glad that I could share her laughter.
That funny little girl.
That silly little girl.

My Daughter, My Princess, My Girl.

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative 
for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda

This poem is also about what a father feels for his daughter who was once so little but now is all set to leave him for another home, another shoulder, another hand, another man. The emotions behind it. The pain behind it. Through the eyes of the father who secretly wishes that he could freeze the picture and save it from the funny tricks of time. 
I had tears while writing this poem, I wonder what my daddy will go through when he's walking me down the aisle.
And yes, my dad plaited my hair when I was in school.

Sunday, November 11, 2012

Love's Last Chance

They sat down by the river bank,
Looking at the lives they left back.

It was love at first sight,
But slowly love seemed to take a flight.

What went wrong they didn't know,
They tried with their heart, their might, their soul.

Silence crept into their world they didn't know how,
They didn't talk to each other anymore now.

They thought of the lives they led,
Since the very day they first met.

It was in high school last year,
That they fell in love so dear.

They knew they were meant to be,
It was too crystal clear to see.

They stood one last time to glance,
At the life they lived with a chance.

As they pondered on miles they walked together,
His contagious laughter broke the silent cover hovering over.

He looked back to the day,
His heart felt so gay.

He took her hand and asked her,
Do you remember that day in the cold winter's night I asked you to be my wife?

She smiled back and said, Yes I do,
How could I forget the day you confessed your love for me Ernest?

Are you willing to give us one more chance Lily?, he asked;
And see if this thing could still last?

She knew she wanted to say a No,
But something inside her cold heart began to glow.

She nodded and said, Yes, I'm willing,
Let's see if we can get to that shore.

They walked hand in hand to their home,
With renewed love and hope and cheerful chatter.

The silence no more was to be heard anymore,
'Coz their laughter broke the silence that lurked before.

The glowing laughter warmed their faint little hearts,
And gave them the strength to fight love's last chance.

Lily and Ernest didn't let go of each other,
They held on to the flickering flame once more.

And gave their love the fighting chance,
They needed to make it forever last.

This post was a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative 
for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda and it got selected among the top two entries for WOW.
Here is the link: WOW winners for 'Creative Writing'

This post is also a dedication to love. This isn't just about Ernest and Lily. It is about us. Our relationships. Don't give up on love. Don't put out the fire, fan the flames instead, in the end you'll see it was really worth it.

Sunday, November 4, 2012

The Proposal

He wakes me up each day,
Singing songs so cheerfully gay.

He had me at his good morning dance,
Where he shook his booty à la Solange.

The dimwit struck a chord in my heart,
I knew it was love's first chance.

He was starstruck too,
His puppy face said it out too loud.

He got on his knees and took out a ring,
And popped me the question 'Would you be my Mrs. Bucky?'

I knew he was nervous,
'Coz I heard him break wind out loud.

I shied away for while,
I had to get a whiff of fresh air to survive.

I told him, I'll say yes on one condition -
You'll let me eat all the nuts you hide up your house?

'No problemo!' said my Romeo with excitement,
He grabbed his Juliet's hand and kissed her tight.

They didn't wait for the priest to pronounce them Man & Wife,
She packed her stuff and followed her Mr Bucktooth to his tree house.

There they lived happily ever after,
Fighting over the fruits and the nuts!

(My crazy and obviously imaginative conversation with Bucky the squirrel that lives on the tree outside my window)

This post was a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative 
for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda and it got selected among the topmost entries for WOW.
Here is the link: WOW winners for 'Creative Writing'

PETA: Please don't sue me for harboring strange desires of marrying a squirrel! 
Sue BlogAdda if you have to! They asked me to be creative!

Friday, November 2, 2012

One Fine Day

One fine day,

Fairness creams would be a thing of the past.
Love and care would actually last.
There would be more love letters than divorce papers.
More birthday bells than death knells.
Cancer would be just a sun sign.
Someone would tell me 'Be Mine' till the end of time.

One fine day,

Everything would make perfect sense
Including those long lost days of nonsense.
Everyone would have their fill
And no man would ever take ill.
There would be pills
That don't come with lengthy bills.

One fine day,

Orphanages and old age homes would stay shut
'Coz everyone would have a home and a hut.
There would be no tear in the eyes
Nor fear in the skies.
People would believe in dreams,
And not just some empty screams.

One fine day,

Everything would be alright
Things would work just right.
Time and tide would change the night
Into a bright glowing daylight.
Heaven's last war would be won
And Hades and hell would be none.

One fine day,

Everything would make perfect sense
In this world of utter nonsense.
Everything would be perfectly fine
One fine, perfect day.

Things may not look good today. but everything will be perfectly good one fine day...

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