By Aditi shah
Bone breaking pain , per contra , he carries us on his back ,
she who carries us on her head , with her comes peace
other she carries us on her hands despite random cuts from cutting the apples , burns from the stove while cooking our comfort food.
watering our garden, flowers were a girl's gift,
from him almonds and walnuts with peeled pistachio is the personalised bouquet wrapped in love.
Would cherish all our firsts' from walking to speaking the medical dialect ,
but never put themselves first , instead put me there.
from toes like pappa , face with eyebrows and lashes like mumma, eyelids and teeth like pappa , tresses like mumma, art like badi , smile from all and fingers a combination .
I wear them proudly , as they are my salvation.
With silver hair , dadi weaves a tapestry with tales
of yesteryears and golden wisdom.
all i remember is the pink he adds to my life , the heart he gives ,
the yellow she soughts out in everyone like the sun she is ,
the whites , as she provides tranquility .
and all I see is rainbows they've painted in the greys of humdrum.
Better said by japanese and chinese , seen best my me ,
the red string of fate ; encircling all 5 of our pinkies.
Forevermore fancying the radium stars on the ceiling,
growing up only to realise the universe was not up there but beside me.
Through troubles and trials, her perennial thap-thaps ,
his snores; my lullaby
and her silken hands to hold on to,
a beacon in the most cataclysmic of the thoughts.
with text from badi , of broken sentences laced with love , that would definitely heal the broken hearts.
Sweet and sour , our Papa's love ,
translated as 100 oranges in your room when you devoured one.
For Archimedes improbable but even he wouldn't deny
as through their life they'll build you something bigger than titanic , with love not just contrive
and for them a door would be enough for the whole family of five .