Posted in Grandparents, poem, Poetry, Uncategorized, writer, writing

Grandpa, where are you?

Those breezy mornings when I run
I stiffle a sniff and move for the kill
But then an octagenarian stops me
And scolds me for being too fast.

With all reverence, I obey him
And then realization hits me
He has grandkids to play with
But my grandparents are far away
So ohh grandpa, where are you?

You willingly ate the horrendous chappatis I cooked
You were the Santa of my childhood
You read the kiddish poems I wrote
With deep relish and glee.

Those chappatis have become perfect now
And the poems have a slight elegance
But our worlds are far far away
So oh grandpa where are you?

En route to the bus stop
I meet a septagenarian couple
Who smile and talk like you grandpa
I converse with them out of nostalgia
Their eyes well up when I leave
And mine are lost in a tearful sea
But still grandpa, where are you?

My nights are spent lamenting your loss
And days in forgetting it
You pampered me with all thy love
And all your affection was showered
On this fragile little heart
So, oh grandpa where are you?

I keep your pictures tucked away
Locked in old cases
Scared I am from the oncoming emmotional rush
Which empty me and take my soul away.

So oh, grandpa where are you?
Maybe with my old grandma
Do tell her I miss her too….

 

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Author:

The gluttonous devil in us is always looking for new food experiences, be it at our home or in restaurants or at food festivals.

One thought on “Grandpa, where are you?

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