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A collaboration over too much coffee.
coffee and pen

10 October, 2005

Daughterkins

Mumbai, 10 October, 2005

Little bundle in my arms,
Your pink little face,
Asleep, Vulnerable, Innocent,
Drives me to tears;
And emotions
Beyond description.

As I hold you,
I fall into a reverie –
Diaper changes, Baby baths,
Pink dresses and paranoid wife.

Toddler days and teddy bears,
Crawling, standing, falling down,
Those first steps;
Camera poised to record
those fleeting landmarks.

Schooldays: A tearful face,
dimpled cheeks pinched cruelly
by o-cho-chweeters;
Leaky water-bottle,
Sandwiches given to the crows,
A bewildered nursery teacher
And mother bent over A-B-C.

Fights with those rough boys
For the playground swing,
Daddy dearest will beat them up
And my little doll remain unhurt,
Only her spirit a little bruised.

Adolescence:
Tampons, boys and pimples;
Those giggles
Those looks of shyness
Awkward days for daddy.

Young lady about town
Dashing admirers
Phone calls, flowers,
Paranoid papa.

The coy bride,
Copious tears, Silk sarees.
A deep
Unsaid
Apprehension
That some young man
Is losing his freedom.

Pesky grandchildren
Running all over my house
Upsetting that collectors’ vase;
A hassled mother
Now with the deepest
Worries of her own.

And aged matriarch
White-haired, Wrinkled,
With a dignity unmatched
Coming as it does
From a life full-lived.

I shake my head.
Baby is still asleep.
Well, my child,
In this moment,
I have lived your life.

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