A poem on My Father-By Rajababu

A poem on My Father-By Rajababu

Author of post for My father

My dear father’s photograph

Happy Father’s day-A collection of thoughts by Rajababu (Narayan Iyer)

Wow! A single day for fathers!! What a tribute!

This much we have to do for those unseen, unheard, in a mode so mute!

The spotlight is almost always on mothers, and whole rightly so,

Its time for fathers to be also highlighted on the go.

Nature abounds with examples of deserter fathers: Lions, elephants and deer,

The Human tendency is just the opposite-so kindly do not fear.

Indian, Russian, or British, a father is a father is a father!

Like his loving, tender care, you will find none other!

Of course, a father’s love over the ravages of centuries,

Has metamorphosed into discipline, strictness, few words and hell lots of worries.

Worries of a son of how he may be belted by his father for jumping the gate,

Worries of a daughter of how she may be rebuked for coming home late!

And yes, it’s more difficult to understand and love a father, since he is never there.

Most of the time, the brood with their mother waits in the lair.

But then, a good part of the reason why the father is out, is for his brood;

Whether or not his wife is working, it’s his responsibility for the daily food.

My remembrances of my father are that of fear, standing with rapt attention;

For I would’ve surely done something wrong, thus leading to this unwanted tension.

And yes, those mandatory beltings on the back were a weekly ritual;

It was normal for a child like me to get beaten, almost a victual.

And yet, I would discern the worried look on his face when I got hurt,

That solitary moment of fatherly worry, soon to be replaced by a face stolid and curt.

Sadly, most of the world teaches most of the men that love might be a wrong feeling,

And to display it to children, wow, that was never part of the healing.

Most fathers of our generation learnt to camouflage their tender love, their concern,

They kept doing this ad nauseum, ad infinitum, till their ashes were safely in the urn.

A gruff exterior, coupled with a stony face, was all they would come up with,

Everyone saw the hard as stone maple tree, few saw the pubescent internal pith.

All that we got were comforting words from Mother-See, he actually loves you,

And you thought internally, Oh really, why then are his soft words so few?

Even as most children will greet their fathers on Father’s Day,

All they will get from their fathers, is a twitch, a semi grin, a smirk, an invisible sway.

And you tell yourself: Was it worth it? Does he even bother for such fanfare?

What you will not know is that deep down, he is delighted, he is tremulous, he does care.

Take it from me as a given, do not expect SRK type reciprocation,

For if you do that, all you will face is internal consternation,

And for many of you, for Father’s Day, be thankful you can phone, visit, call;

All I will do is to light incense, and greet a garlanded portrait on my home wall.



Shrabanti Ray
Shrabanti Ray Posted on5:54 pm - Jun 24, 2018

Brilliant piece of dedication….

Tanishq Dedhia
Aparna Posted on5:55 am - Jun 26, 2018

This is the true fact of life

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