Dear Dad.

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I was so small that your thumb was the only thing I could grasp,
Your hand was so big for my little palm to fit in.
and your piggyback was the most amazing thing in the world.

I didn’t want to grow up and worry about being employed one day,
neither did I want to turn into an adult.
I just wanted to be that silly inquisitive kid and follow your footstep.

Dear dad, many years have passed, soon I will get married and go away.
How I wish I could still dance in that cute yellow frock
that you’d gifted me on my 10th birthday.

How I wish Ma to still come to school and take me home,
and you to wait for me outside home,
so that you could carry me and take inside.

I remember how you hassled to make lunch when Ma was away,
and each time I opened my lunch box in school,
I would find sweet bread and unevenly spread jam.

Dad, you are still very special, still a hero.
Although my palms are grown bigger
know that it’s just a sign to hold you forever.

(This poem is a tribute to the real hero of our life.)

© Nisha Varinka Chettri

 

 

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2 thoughts on “Dear Dad.

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