Listen as I talk to you right now, for you exist in me,
Joyous of a pose that this world doesn’t want to see,
You are me, a deeply proficient artist, thorn-wreathed,
Shinning like a star, above a world eternally cheated.
So desirous am I today that I feel I can take down your dad,
Who but proclaimed to keep you from harm and sad,
Will you come back from the life you did take down,
I’ll show you how I assured my dad through every frown
Don’t cry, sweetheart, arise from the tragic descent,
You are only scared to stand up to yells from a parent,
A parent that never knew passion and never could see,
Art and play, words and poetry could hold his son’s soul-key.
I have had my own share of sorrows and stories of pain,
My parents rebuking me for pushing so hard in vain,
Taking a chance with my writing pen, did I strongly realise,
How badly I decided a stereotypic dream to resize.
Five days of talking until your dad’s yells reduced to a few
I am here holding your hand, no longer shaking in blue,
I’m hoping those tears today that wet your coat are in joy,
You realise this is our world, and no one’s to destroy.
— By Dr. Nilanjana Haldar