kindred----Sunday Scribblings

with your glasses in one hand
eyes shut, reclining on your favourite chair
I can still picture you.
only a small sound was needed to wake you up-
maybe you never slept, only did a shut eye.
when I hovered near you
you gave me a much cherished half smile
beckoning with your eyes to go near you.
with three tame sons and a virago for a daughter
I speculate, you had your hands full.
those brothers of mine were buried in books-
this daughter of yours was busy with basketball.
with oversized shirts and baggy trousers
she was a complete misfit.
you let her do pretty much what she wanted
If she had asked for the moon,
you would have got her that,
but for mom, who put her feet down.
such a small woman with so much iron strength
had it been not for her, I would have had cropped hair,
which now cascade down my back almost covering me.
I cringe now for not being the daughter
you both must have wished for-
getting me in the bargain,
who is still confused what she wants in her life.
through thick and thin, you stood by me-
dad, I know know you are still watching over me
to help mom, who has been unable to get rid of me.

I would still be needing you both, and my brothers too-
blood, as they say, always calls out.