Dedicated to my ever loving Uncle – R. Madhava Prabhu, on the 13^th day of his demise.

 

My love,

A blanket for the winter,

Was all we needed

to  keep us tender and snug.

Thread by thread,

Smeared with love

for Us,

I’d begun to weave.

I am so shaken

when you uttered,

One for Me

Another for You.

I am wounded,

As I realized

What you meant!

Image courtesy: Pixabay

© 2016 Ajay Pai (Reserved)

The more I try to free myself,

I am entangled further,
entwined.

The word “Free” the cause, 
they enunciate.

Ah,  material world

Nothing is “Free” here

‘Free’, is a gimmick.

© 2016 Ajay Pai (Reserved)
Image courtesy :Pixabay

It was a similar night,  

When crescent moon

kindled the skies,

a  tiny Lil star twinkled,

Ishaan was born.

I bore him in my heart,

The heart which lactates.

Ah,  You mortal

Measure it not!

PS: True, a father doesn't have a womb. But dare you, do not measure his love for his infant. 

Male harassment: It is neither a torment nor harassment when a male parent (father) is deprived of meeting his son for personal gain of the in-laws. Male harassment does not exist in India. (How i wish.) I missed adding this statement. "Yes, it does not tantamount to cruelty on the male parent."   :P

© 2016 Ajay Pai (Reserved)

Image courtesy : AJ's archives.

The Sun and the Moon,

am sure

are a warring couple.

Neither have their eyes hooked,

Nor have they shared

an erotic  night.

© 2016 Ajay Pai (Reserved)

#Micropoetry

Image courtesy :  Pexels