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Your Little Girl

In the fabric of time, if there was a tear,
I'd enter and emerge the bright-eyed little girl.
Her school bag and water bottle
slung carelessly on her shoulders
bouncing along as she walked, unworriedly
behind, while you, her invincible hero,
ran your last run to stop the school bus.

When your hands were still smooth,
the wrinkles yet to come,
and your body could still bear the weight
of her lying on your stomach.
And you told the old stories, told and retold.
while she fell asleep there, peaceful, fearless.

When you were up, unblinking,
the whole night through as she lay in the bed,
burning with fever. Now and again you asked
“How’s my baby feeling? May be a little better?”
You kept your hand on her forehead
and though the virus took its time,
you’d make it easy to bear.

How I wish it was there, this tear in time.
I would enter and stitch it up,
and holding your hand, go back
to the cheery past, the place where you could run
once again, with strong and healthy knees;
Go back to being a little girl, your little girl,
to my eternal childhood, to your eternal youth.

(This poem is very special to me for two reasons. The first reason is that this poem is about my father who is my hero and also the best papa in the world. The second reason is that I performed this poem during my first ever poetry performance at A Night of Poetry @ The Northumberland Arms on 28th Feb 2011.)


  1. दोनों कारण सहित, सुंदर कविता

  2. Thanks Sandeep, Vaishali! I got this poem printed and framed and sent it to Papa. He loved it.


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