Every Parent’s Emotional Challenge

Seated by my father,
A day after the festival,
We shared a light conversation,
That moved me, miffed me, made me dull.

We have a fat family,
With houses built in series,
There was dullness all over the houses,
A day after the festival, all houses were in miseries.

Not because of money,
Or lack of education or facilities,
Misery was on account of desolation,
Residing in each house with vulnerabilities.

There was an old couple,
Or just a widow or an old man,
Looking after the entire big house,
From morning till night, will all might they can.

Their grown up children,
Dwell in fast cities like Delhi and Bangalore,
Driven by their passion for work,
Leave two family members here out of four.

They bid them farewell,
Every time a day after the festival,
With a fake pretense on their wrinkled face,
That has now established agony way too fatal.

They have all grown old,
Finding loneliness as their companion,
I was glad to stay here for a few more days,
And spend time with my father for this conversation.

To whom belongs home,
When we drop in occasionally as guests?
Children have become independent and selfish,
While parents who have reared them, send peaceful requests?

Does he feel the same,
When we leave home for our engagements?
Two of his three daughters stay away from home,
From where does he bring all those talks of encouragements?

He has never complained,
But this was a subtle irony revealed,
We leave our parents alienated and aloof,
Just when they step into their second childhood field.

They need assistance,
In every step they walk, every bite they eat,
We are busy enough not to attend to their calls,
And they patiently wait for us until their last heartbeat.

Seated by my father,
A day after the festival,
I shared an unheard grievance,
And I am resolute to take care of this vertical.

Three daughters to a father,
Make a strong army to combat emotions,
One of us will always be seated by my father,
On all days, under the sky and across the oceans.

Except for the festivals,
When all three of us will linger in the house,
Entertaining him with hilarious acts like he did,
And sharing recollections of running away from the mouse.

Isolation shall never come,
If we make our parents a part of our lives,
Stay with them or comfort them in our apartments,
Cherishing morning blessings and evenings of high fives.

Life would then be,
A little less impartial to the old family members,
If they are not emotionally challenged by their children,
And festivals are not looked forward to in the days of Decembers.

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