Dear dad,
If only you could read my shit
And try to understand the nuances of my life
You would realize that i dont belong
Where you want me to
That Im just not made of that mind
And it would finally hit you
That all i want from you
Is just to open those doors of life
For me
Which you dont ever want to



My father’s got a heart to live,
A heart with which he scolds me,
And a heart with which he loves me,
A heart  as big as a lion,
The only drawback is that its weak,
He cant run with it,
He cant scream with it,
A little pressure on it and  it tears up,
Hes inherited it from his mother,
So my father said he’ll sew it away,
Sew, sew, sew, sew, sew
Sew all the torn parts of his heart,
All those parts that are troubling him night and day,
He’ll mend them once and for all,

His heart is sewed up now,
Oh what a relief to me,
Now he can watch me grow some more,
Grow some more in front of his eyes,
In front of his sewtended (extended by sewing) life…..

P.S. this is a poem i penned for my father whos going to have his angioplasty tommorow…hes also going to get stents in his arteries…


My parents met with an accident yesterday…it was not a major one, but it was an accident nevertheless…mom’s clothes were a bit torn from it and she had to take painkillers throughout the day to reduce her bodyache…one of my father’s hand was  so continously in pain, that my sister had to bandage it…all this happened when he went to drop mom off to her office…after dropping her off he had to return home…but he didnt…atleast for a long time…i detected something wrong at that time but was too busy with myself to give a proper thought to it… when he didnt return for quite a long time two thoughts came in my head 1)either he has met with ann accident and 2) hes stuck in traffic….the funny thing is, that the first thought was asserting its dominance over the other…i tried to rubbish it but it stayed on…and when my father returned and made my sister bandage his hand without telling us anything about what the hell happened with him i was able to successfully rubbish that thought from my mind…it was only in the evening when mom put the truth in front of me…
The problem that i have with my father is that he always hides these things from me and paints a picture of that  ‘everything is right’ when its really not…things like this have happened before…its mom who always spill the beans…this habit of his has now reached a point where it irritates me…he hides such things from me as if im some stranger…i know that he does all this in good intention but c’mon he knows that im not a child anymore with whom he cant share these things…and then he says that i dont care for him…does he really wants me to care for him? I dont think so..