He lost his dad at 13
A man he became
for his mother
and sisters
taking decisions
for their well-being
and future.
Working two jobs
He learnt the ways
of the world.
The role of the man
as provider
and protector
a role
that wasn't meant to be.
They looked upto him
for choices and decisions
when he didn't know better.
It was not about being right
but about taking the decision.
he got some right
and most wrong
Yet, it was he
who had to make them.
Marriage meant
more decisions
for an ever growing family
He setup a trade
with borrowed money
a risk
Yet, hopeful
for a change of tide.
His confidence came
from making decisions
even when they were
patriarchal.
A word
he didn't know
a life he lived
day on day.
He worked hard
knowing
he was the provider
food, clothes, et al
holding back
his desires
along the way.
Maybe someday
I will travel the world
for now
I need to save up
for college
for two aspiring offspring
who have dreams of their own.
Nothing but the best for my children
be it food, clothes or education
He was driven
by love or
was it expectation?
A rickety scooter
for most of his life
the same barber
the same tailor
My needs are but small
he convinced himself.
A car he bought once
for his growing family
much criticism
he endured
for being wasteful
and extravagant.
He missed
many a occasion
birthdays
and graduation
many a first
for his adorable lot
when he toiled
in the dusty folds
of an unforgiving trade.
He showed concern
for their choices
clothes they wore
parties they attended
friends they welcomed
life they chose
criticized he was
'what do you know'
He didn't...
The world was changing
his struggle was real
poverty
war
emergency
the changing governments
many an ideology
he had survived it all.
If just he could convey
how much he cared
having never learnt
how to say
how much he loved.
Silence and anger
were his two shields
his only way to
show he cared.
He kept to himself
isolated
yearning
for even in their
rejection
he was still the
provider and protector.
Head down
he worked his day
14 hours
for 61 years.
His time
meant dreams
for his loved ones.
Alone
in his toil
yet never
repentant.
His children
branded him
aloof
and unavailable
old-school
and an embarrassment
for his lack
of sophistication
in clothes and language.
In time,
they left him
to pursue their dreams
create their own worlds
make their own life
where he didn't belong.
In the twilight of his life
He sits on his armchair
drool escaping his lips
awaiting in conscious sleep
A patriarch
who wasn't.
A man he became
for his mother
and sisters
taking decisions
for their well-being
and future.
Working two jobs
He learnt the ways
of the world.
The role of the man
as provider
and protector
a role
that wasn't meant to be.
They looked upto him
for choices and decisions
when he didn't know better.
It was not about being right
but about taking the decision.
he got some right
and most wrong
Yet, it was he
who had to make them.
Marriage meant
more decisions
for an ever growing family
He setup a trade
with borrowed money
a risk
Yet, hopeful
for a change of tide.
His confidence came
from making decisions
even when they were
patriarchal.
A word
he didn't know
a life he lived
day on day.
He worked hard
knowing
he was the provider
food, clothes, et al
holding back
his desires
along the way.
Maybe someday
I will travel the world
for now
I need to save up
for college
for two aspiring offspring
who have dreams of their own.
Nothing but the best for my children
be it food, clothes or education
He was driven
by love or
was it expectation?
A rickety scooter
for most of his life
the same barber
the same tailor
My needs are but small
he convinced himself.
A car he bought once
for his growing family
much criticism
he endured
for being wasteful
and extravagant.
He missed
many a occasion
birthdays
and graduation
many a first
for his adorable lot
when he toiled
in the dusty folds
of an unforgiving trade.
He showed concern
for their choices
clothes they wore
parties they attended
friends they welcomed
life they chose
criticized he was
'what do you know'
He didn't...
The world was changing
his struggle was real
poverty
war
emergency
the changing governments
many an ideology
he had survived it all.
If just he could convey
how much he cared
having never learnt
how to say
how much he loved.
Silence and anger
were his two shields
his only way to
show he cared.
He kept to himself
isolated
yearning
for even in their
rejection
he was still the
provider and protector.
Head down
he worked his day
14 hours
for 61 years.
His time
meant dreams
for his loved ones.
Alone
in his toil
yet never
repentant.
His children
branded him
aloof
and unavailable
old-school
and an embarrassment
for his lack
of sophistication
in clothes and language.
In time,
they left him
to pursue their dreams
create their own worlds
make their own life
where he didn't belong.
In the twilight of his life
He sits on his armchair
drool escaping his lips
awaiting in conscious sleep
A patriarch
who wasn't.
