They Were A Purpose

they were a purpose

to one another,

one was tough outside

but had a tender core,

the other a fragile face, shining eyes,

yet was made of steely grit

they were a purpose

to one another,

one was loud,

but child like,

craving for attention, and care,

the other, ready to tear up,

but, as generous to wear her smiles,

truly, always a mother of care

they were a purpose

to one another,

tired, as he'd return from work,

he'd be met with fresh hot rotis,

and his favourite dishes,

as if she lived on his palette

as if she read every breath of his mind,

as she'd pamper with several rounds of tea

they were a purpose

to one another,

tenderly sowed and raised the three of them,

sony, neena and pinkuli,

like blooms in a nicely manicured garden,

hiding their fears, pains and longings

as they bided time together, waiting for them

they were a purpose

to each other,

one with a

tough exterior and a tender core,

the other a smiling and easy to cry, 

but a steely core,

warm and welcoming to everyone,

and owning up the world

as their own

they were a purpose

to one another,

tied always in a knot, wherever they went

like soul strings,

the tea being ready,

the very instant he'd be looking for it,

maybe why he missed the tea,

while she was ready, 

for she knew, when he was due,

likely why, he rushed back home,

as he knew, she'd be waiting, 

and for long he had longed,

to pay her debt!

© sashikant mohanty