Here I Come

The unexpected rain should not tarry me
I must reach before the bus arrives at the stop
she is sure to get drenched if the bus arrives
before I reach there with the umbrella.

I must run as fast I could and be there
waiting for her at the bus stop.
I care not if the new dress I was trying on
would get spoilt in the rain.
I run through the wet, slimy, country path,
splashing around the slurry , not caring the least.
My sole goal is to get her the shade of this umbrella.

There was no sign of any rain in the morning
or perhaps she forgot or might have deliberately
left it behind to reduce the luggage.

she has grown old and weak
she just drags herself every morning to work.
Knowing all this I can not bother about the dress
All I know is that I must get her the umbrella.

she would soon be at the head of this road.
Before she steps out of the bus, I should be there.
The rain just started the moment I stood
before the mirror to see how I look in the new gown.

I wanted to surprise mama when she steps in
but then the rain started and the umbrella caught my eye.
Now there is no tarrying even to change the gown.
Run I must and be there fast
Here I go, rain beat me if you can.
Picture courtesy:http://creativewriting.ie/wp-content/uploads/2012/08/prompt-40.jpg

The Unconditional Giver

Seeing you reclining in your easy chair,

I rush to you and climb on your feet.

I take hold of your hands which come extended

the moment I position myself on your feet thus

and balance myself comfortably there.

Standing on your feet looking straight into your eyes,

I giggle when you lift me up, raising your feet.

You lift your feet and lower them alternatively,

making me go up and down in the air,

holding on tightly to my little fingers

and never letting go the pedals

that are your feet from beneath mine.

You called this an act of cycling

for what reason I know not,

but I nevertheless enjoyed the rides.

You never owned any vehicle.

You never drove me anywhere.

The cycling we had while you could still afford to

lift me up on your feet was all we had.

Yet we have cycled far and more than

any other father and daughter have.

We have had such joy and fulfillment

that it continues to energize me

now that you are no longer there.

I learnt the first lessons of giving from you;

the unconditional giver you always were,

whether of time and things.

You never grumbled or grudged what you gave.

You were ever ready with your palms open and extended.

Picture courtesy: http://creativewriting.ie/2012/05/18/creative-writing-ink-picture-prompt/

Two Individuals, Two Lines of Thinking

“Our minds are running in different directions”, I wail.

“We are two individuals”, you reply.

I feel agitated and fall silent.

With my heavy heart I recollect the details

and attempt an analysis in my perturbed silence.

My initial disappointment and distress

gradually gives way to an altered perception.

I see that you were not being indifferent

 or cruel as I presumed.

It is just natural that two people think on different lines.

It is difficult to presume what the other might be thinking.

It is too much to wish for from my side

 to think on the same line with you,

or to make you share my strain of thinking.

But I am the child, the stubborn one,

who wants the unattainable.

I have the drive, the will, and the perseverance

but it needs two to try out what I dream of

and that is the difficult part of it.

I have tried and outgrown my innate

impulse to react spontaneously

 when let down, hurt or in doubt.

I have trained myself to be patient and quiet.

I wait in silence.

I have realized through experience that

patience really pays.

But at moments of forgetfulness triggered by

assurance engendered by faith in love,

I cease to be the new me and

lose patience and start bothering you with

questions seeking reassuring answers.

You get upset and fight with me

and I lose my stability, whatever little I have.

 

picture courtesy:http://creativewriting.ie/wp-content/uploads/2012/04/writing-prompt-april-16th.jpg