THE PEG
Dear Babu Jee,
Today once
again
I travelled
deep into the memory lane
To pick some
glorious moment from the past.
And just found
your cotton Kurta
Hanging on
the peg.
Both of its pockets
looked laden
With the
burden
And borne by
the hanger
All alone like
you.
The pockets
were full of papers,
Full of letters
And list of
daily needs:
Of books and
copies ,
Of monthly
groceries
Which you
kept promising to bring
The next
week or coming Sundays
Without
fail.
Even after
mother’s frustrating retort
The Promises
habitually lingered on,
But you
remained calm as ever.
When she’ll
run out of her patience
And find her
composure totally lost,
You would bring
some groceries home,
You would
bring some peace.
The peg
stood witness
For all the
burns and burden
That Babujee
had in his heart and mind.
Whenever you
received letters
Of grandpa
and grandma
You reverently felt blessed
And also knew
it well
There must
be some demand
On the back.
Yet as a
burden bearing beast
You
religiously fulfilled their needs
And the peg
knew it all.
Day by day
Demands and
desires kept spiralling
With the
passage of time,
But it could
hardly bother his mind.
When Babujee
came home with my result
And showed
it to mom,
The glimpse
of glitter was evident on their faces.
You read my
first poem loudly
Breaking the
silence of sleeping night.
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