From A Daughter To A Father December 16, 2011
Posted by Akriti Bahal in Feelings, Fiction, Sad, Uncategorized.Tags: frock
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In the fast-paced modern world, even the families that claim to be up-to-date with their pearls; minor parochial thinking still persists, as if it was all a huge mist. Oblivious of the rules of life, or I should say the unfairities that we see yet fail to sight; holding her frock in surging tide, looking eagerly at the doll-house that sat by her side, a daughter pours her innocent jewels of feelings; asking her father, the reason for these ailings.
Unable to answer her daughter’s guileless questions, the little girl sees water filling his rims of emotion.
Did it only bring tears in his eyes, or did he actually realize?

I look at the world around
And see myself standing aback
Without even making a sound.
I look left! I look right!
Trying to find a place where I can hide.
No I’m not afraid! No I’m not scared!
But I feel small in front of the world
That calls me living in the backward air.
I see the world driving their way through
Cutting through the clouds of traffic
As if expertly sailing on the ocean blue.
I look down; my heart shrinks.
Each time I watch a person
Driving through the road with ear rings.
I feel deprived, I feel sad
That is one thing I will never forget.
Your words,
They still pour in my ear as hay
“I have done my duty. Now when you earn
You make your own way.”
It came as a shock, it came as a bump
For a heart that had always dreamed of driving
Through the wind without even a lump.
I feel deprived, I feel sad
That is one thing I will never forget.
You create a divide
Between male and female
And that, you cannot hide.
Each time I look around the world
And see myself; I wish I never was a girl
Or, I rather was hurled.
For once, would you look around
The people, the modern times,
The shrinking pennies
But the growing dimes?
For once would you look around the world
For me?
The communities have grown, the surroundings have changed
Even though we still live in the mud clay buildings that we named.
Try looking around for once
It might seem a place in a dire need,
Asking for your approval, begging for a chance.
You want us to flourish, I know
But, you need to open up your mind and let go.
There is no place for orthodox gestures,
If you want us to top all charts
That the world can ever fetch for us.
We will be good, we will make you proud
That, I promise.
Just try and understand us- ‘The today’s youth’
Please don’t let us diminish.
I want a day when
I look around the world
And I don’t feel deprived, I don’t feel small
But,
I am standing behind the podium
And referring to the world
As if it was all a mere song.







Hey…something that makes your thinking senses gear up! Very thoughtful and true. Don’t know why many are still orthodox in their thinking and underestimate youth. But I guess change is something that is so gradual that we can hardly notice it; the change in thinking is the same.
It was a beautiful post,, loved it!
Thank you Ashna! I completely agree, in today’s society even the discernment never seems to end. The unjust attitudes need to change; the communication gap needs to be mend.
Beautiful post! And here we see a poet sprouting her way. But I’d like to add that sometimes words of our Fathers’ are exaggerated due to shear care and love for you. Sometimes you may feel uncomfortable in that ideology, in that case just sit with him and make him understand, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind giving it a thought!
Very well carved.
Well as it is, talking always mends. It sure can bridge all the gaps and if not, it can surely help to clear the air. Thank you.
WoW! You are a *wonderful* writer, Akriti! You told a whole story in rhymes, that is penned beautifully!
The message is powerful and I applaud you for that! It is really difficult for our parents to alter their thought patterns. Sad, but true.
The image is lovely also. So glad I surfed in here ~ will look forward to your new posts. I think you are also on Blogger too
Best Wishes to you
Fiona
Yup I am!
And thanks so much for your lovely words, they are just feelings that flow in the form of writing, for me. Glad that you liked it.
Ek choti bchi apne papa k sath ja rhi thi.
1 pul par
paani bahut tezi se bah rha tha.
Papa- Beta daro mat,mera hath pakad lo. Bchi- Nahi
papa aap mera hath pakad lo.
Papa(muskura kar
bole)- dono me kya antar hai?
Bchi- agar maine
aapka hath pakda, or achank kuch ho jae, to shayad,
main aapka hath chhoddu,
LEKIN agar aap mera hath pakdenge,to me janti hu
k chahe kuch bhi ho jaye,
AAP MERA HATH KABHI
NAHI CHHODENGE. “THAT IS GREAT LOVE.” ”
Aaj bhi
Bacche hath chhod dete hai mgr Maa-baap
nahi”