Tuesday, March 03, 2009

Little Angel

I was waiting for this
When I would shower my love on you.
I even imagined
The impression of my palm
On your back.

I had dreamed while driving
How I would take you to school
And frown when guys
Followed your walk -
I would deny having ever done that.

I had bought the same numberAn angel is born
Of blue and pink bibs and jumpers
Though I had secretly stashed
More of pink -
Because I knew you would come.

I had already told
A hundred tales to you
While your mother slept
And kept changing names
For the little birds and cats
So that you wouldn't be bored.
I am still making up stories.

I called you different names
But called you Anaaya
More often - no one noticed.
I hope you like it
And not complain tomorrow
Because your best friend thinks
It is so "plain".

I would imagine you walk
Slowly, down the street.
Boys would suddenly come out
To check an empty mailbox
Or try silly stunts on their bikes.
And you would giggle
And hug me more tightly - "just like that".

I would smack you on the head
Because I just told you
That the square root of 196 is 14.
And then kiss you there
Assuring you that you will never
Forget those numbers now.

I would watch you yawn
And hope your granny watched it too.
She'd say, "He used to yawn just like that"
And I'd know that we belong
To each other
Through bonds which are strongest
When you hold my little finger
Clenched in your fist.

That same hand would reach
To find mine as protection
Against street dogs and rash drivers,
Stray colds and headaches,
The first broken heart (oh! how could he!!),
The first confession,
The first time when you assure me
That you will never forget me.

All of them would try hard
To pacify you when you cry
But they'd give up
And hand you over to me
And I would whisper the song
Of all the Love that beats in my heart
And you'd pause to listen
To that one Truth
Whom no one can ever speak.

I will convince you
That that boy doesn't deserve you.
But you will laugh
And then get annoyed
Long enough for me
To come and hug you and say
"Ok, but no touching or kissing, ok?"

Now you are here
And I wonder whether
I can ever give enough
Because in merely being born
You have given me more
Than what I can possibly
Ever shower on you.
But I'll try, dear Anaaya.
Please give me some time
To learn how to Love like you.

5 comments:

  1. Parvati11:55 PM

    Your daughter is most beautiful! How lovely she is smiling while sleeping! But what is the best element of this post is the tiny black beauty mark on her right cheek. Perfect!

    # I am lost in her photo. I cannot even spend any of me on the merits or demerits of the poem...Must be good, since it is all about her and your relationship with her...

    #Quite lovely. The photo is an eternal one in its perfection. One hardly gets to see such perfection amongst adult human beings.

    #Thanks for sharing such a personal picture with your blog-guests.

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  2. Dear P,
    Beautiful, isn't she? I normally wouldn't post personal stuff but when it is to do with children (my nephew, this angel, et al) I am unable to hold myself back. She is born to a beautiful lady with a beautiful soul and a large-hearted man with a lot of love... but of course, she has to be beautiful!! :-D

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  3. Wow!! Congrats buddy! :-)

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  4. congratulations. she is trully a beautiful angel :)

    a beautiful dedication too

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  5. Dear P,
    I should have caught it earlier but I missed. The little angel is not mine (not after the exalted description of the parents) though I wish, but is my best friend's! But then we are all family and hence,... :-)

    Dear R,
    Thanks... for what? :-)

    Dear S,
    Long time, milady. How are you?

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