Prena Poetry

“Growing up is cool”, dad would say to me and sit on the sofa, stretching his legs on the table. I would keep down my phone and gently assure his words with a smile. But deep down this one thought burns me’ growing older or just growing tired everyday’. There is nothing much that gives me real sense of hope and tells me that I’m good enough and I will make a difference one day.

But then every time as I look at my father; this middle aged man with broad philosophy and silent integrity gives me enough reasons to stand on my feet and build an empire. Because no matter what I would be or what I would never get to be, I know, I never want to disrespect the man who pushed away so many things to raise his daughter with a middle class salary and send her off to some college he has never been to. So I just sit next to him and watch him turn on the TV then switch to a sports channel. I never liked sports but everytime as he turns on the TV, I make sure to sit next to him, just to give off the slightest hint that, I never want him to have the repentance for bearing a daughter who never has enough courage to say, dad I am doing my best but I’m not brave, determined or selfless like you or the fathers before you.

I just make sure to stay next to him for the next two hours knowing that neither of us will break the border of silence that exists between us.

But maybe this is the only way of telling him that, “I look up to you because I love you enough, dad”.