Sushmita pays her homage to her father on Father’s Day.
They say,
Some light from the lamp,
And,
Some sound from,
Chanting of scriptures,
Is all,
And only,
What remains,
With the soul,
After it sheds the body,
Before it merges,
With the universe.
Then comes,
Preparation,
For the birth next.
My dad,
Left me,
Years eleven ago.
I am still stuck,
To that date.
But I also know,
He is now,
A little life somewhere,
Living out his wisdom,
Gathered from being,
Father to my little sister and me,
Husband to my Mamma,
And much else to others.
I miss him dearly sometimes,
But only sometimes. 
Time really heals.
But also,
Very quietly,
Very tenderly,
I still wish for him,
To read my writings,
To love my paintings,
Exact same way,
When I used to run to him,
To show them,
When I was little.
Him,
Always blessing me.
He, the daddy,
Me, his little girl.
Today,
When I think of him,
My lips,
Break into a smile.
My heart fills,
With love,
And blessings,
For the,
Little,
He must be.
©Sushmita Gupta
Pix sourced by author and net.
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