My Little Boy

My little boy, is an adamant one,

He has a fever of 101,

Yet, he wants to go to his play gym,

I have to give in to his every whim,

The word NO,

Makes him throw his head back and roar,

He screams, he cries and he stomps his feet,

Along with racing his baby heart beat,

Short tempered and full of drama,

Everyone around him mutters, "Rama-Rama"

With a mind of his own,

He's on a league of his own,

A rebel without a cause,

His naughtiness has no pause,

I put up a fight,

With all my might,

I'm determined to convert this monkey,

Into a gentleman and not a toy hoarding junkie,

Wish me luck,

And the strength to make many more bucks,

I'll need both to raise my boy wonder,

There's a lot to ponder,

Our work has just begun,

But we'll do it together, as a team of one.

Three

Three years since you've been physically gone,

Your memories still live on,

I miss our late night drives,

Those are chapters from our life, which I've mentally archived,

You knew me, like the back of your hand,

For most of our fights, you took a stand,

Gaajar halwa or Theobroma brownies,

Instantly took away my frownies,

I'm eyeing a Minnie Mouse ring watch now,

Which I know you would've picked up for me, had you been alive,

I miss you quietly and loudly,

I mourn you proudly,

Happy to have met you,

Blessed to have been married to you, 

I'm mostly okay,

 I've mastered how to push the pain away. 

Srinagar Colony

Three decades of being a resident,

Long enough to watch dad getting involved with the colony president,

He is an active member of the colony happenings,

A cozy, yet mildly happening,

Residential colony, for all ages across,

Everyone's a boss,

In Srinagar Colony,

Opinions are made and decisions are swayed, all inside the colony,

From the colony temple to the juice shop,

To every maid's mop,

Everyone is treated with dignity and respect,

In Srinagar Colony, including snakes, monkeys, cows, goats and dogs,

Every house vastly different from the other,

It's a colony like no other,

Sleepy at times,

Sometimes loud, for no reason or rhyme,

A minister being arrested,

A new idol being erected,

All this is enough and more,

For the colony to instantly wake up and mute their snores,

An amalgamation of old and new,

A walk inside Srinagar colony, will have you feeling anew. 

Home

Home, where the fridge is loaded with your favourite treats,

Right from sambar rice to every imaginable meat,

The kitchen always smells of ghee,

Filling your heart with glee,

One of the parents are always pottering around,

The clanging of snack boxes, a permanent sound,

You sleep your deepest sleeps,

As your parents quietly peep,

You find the strength to solve every problem,

Even if you hit rock bottom,

There's food and drink galore,

To make all your grievances fly away and soar,

By the end of the weekend,

Your mind is well rested, you're ready to blend,

Back into the weekly grind,

And the ready to face the world, that can sometimes be unkind,

But you've got this,

For the next weekend of bliss,

Is not too far away,

And home awaits, ready to melt your blues away.

Bullies

As my little boy gets bullied in school,

I tell him to be cool,

A slap for a slap,

Or a clap for a clap,

While non-violence is the way forward,

If the opponent is violent, there's no stepping backward,

Fight your fight and stand your ground,

I tell him to his little face that is semi-round,

He cries in response,

Saying this isn't what he wants,

So bullied he gets,

While I try not to fret,

I wonder who the parents are,

So that I can give them a slap for a slap, for my child's lifelong scar,

Bullies are horrid,

They have to be caught and reported,

I prefer the path of violence,

While my skinny cherub, prefers non violence,

Sigh!

Your Music

It was in the middle of listening to "The Weeknd,"

That my knees weakened,

"Why not listen to your songs?"

I thought,

I quickly searched for your bands on YouTube,

And began listening to it on loop,

Watching you in your element on stage,

Instantly took me back to a different age,

Your heart and soul, were always inside those concerts,

Watching you headbanging on stage, made my mind hurt,

How much grief I gave you for jamming over the weekends,

I instantly regretted those fights,

Can't stand to go to any concert now,

Because I know, I'll no longer bump into you there anymore. 

Empty

I am a void, a void is me,

There is debris,

That doesn't want to clear,

Instead it grows with every passing year,

My life is full,

Yet I feel a pull,

To everything dead,

My heart is no longer filled with dread,

Just acceptance, of a beautiful past,

And memories that are vast,

Three years since you've been gone,

I wonder if I am still in mourn, 

Perhaps I am, perhaps I'm not,

All I can feel are tight knots,

Inside my mind and chest,

The feeling doesn't go away even after a full night's rest.

Heal

"You've healed", said someone I recently met,

"Nope", I replied without too much of a fret,

I never healed, and that's my secret,

The fact that I've learnt to outwit,

My moody brain,

Is a skill I've learnt over time, I keep my emotions on a tight chain,

I break down so quietly,

No one hears it, the whole affair is done privately,

My pillows absorb my tears,

And the bawling falls on no one's ears,

I'm happy and sad,

Spend a day with me and you'll learn I'm quite mad,

Mad over a life that went by too quickly,

Glad that it happened even if I feel rickety,

Someday I'll be happy,

Until then I'll try not to be snappy,

No promises!

Sleep-Deprived Poopie

A glass of whiskey in hand,

He would tower over my sleeping frame and command,

Undivided attention at midnight,

The calls would begin by twilight,

"What do you want from the airport?",

"Toys for Riaan and food for you?"

As we'd drift into a delicious sleep,

He'd enter the house with a bag full of treats,

On our blue lounger he'd plonk,

With a glass of whiskey and smoke,

Exhausted beyond recognition,

Yet clear on his mission,

Stories of work and people,

He painted a rosy picture, while I sensed evil,

A couple of months later he was no more,

His whiskey bottles are probably in the store.