An intense poem by Sumita about her father, in Different Truths.
He was the most handsome
Once upon a time.
Broad shoulders, carved biceps;
A high diving gymnast
Twirling thrice in air
Once upon a time.
His calloused palm
Smoothing my head,
That rare praise, lost
Amidst skirmishes, for
A rebellious daughter
Was I.
Face cadaverous he sleeps
Dentures out, mouth caved in;
Walker, wheelchair, under-pads,
Medicines, knee-brace, shoulder-guard,
The calibrated jar – his urinal
Populate his room, awaiting
His attention, as I once did.
Busy wrapping my work,
I scan the years –
Once scrambling over wet rocks
I’d found a precarious perch
Over a deep thundering waterfall
And waved in triumphant response
To my name, his terrified scream.
I listen for his hoarse call now,
His embarrassed, helpless need…
Time has tolled; I’m his loving mother now,
And he’s my proud recalcitrant son.
©Sumita Dutta
Photos from the Internet
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