Come Back, Bapa

You're the earliest to wake up,
Everyday,
Untiring, unrelenting of the habit,
You've been asleep for long,
Wake up Bapa,
Wake up!

The flowers are eagerly waiting for your plucking,
The plants to be watered,
Your manuscripts are rudderless,
The pages of your books,
Come into life, flipping without the gusts
They're missing your smell, your touch Bapa
Wake up!

Bou misses your calls,
She's waiting for your return,
For the habit of pampering you with horlicks,
Tending to your headaches,
The wordless gestures that she figured out
Each chord, every single nudge,
The sight that reminds,
Marriages are meant for old age, Bapa.
Wake up!

When the kids pose tough questions,
Who do I turn to, Bapa?
Who do I call when I have a heavy heart,
Where do I go to, to share those little nothings,
That only you understand,
To whose embrace do I come home, Bapa?
Wake up!

I envy the calm and the smile
On you,
The way you have lived and led through
Trying moments,
With a stoic silence,
Today there's a smile, a quiet, an unshaken calm,
But I can't stand it, Bapa
What do I tell Bou today, when she inquires
About your health?
For her sake, one more time,
Come back, Bapa!



© Sashikant Mohanty