October, brings hope to us.
As we look at the felicitous sky,
Weaving all those broken dreams again
Everything just gives a tinge of peace,
As it replenishes with shiuli all over
People smile, as this little hope,
embraces their soul.
Realizing, Looking at everything-
October arrived.
Baba was like, hope to me.
Hope to that little child, running
Around the streets, on a October
Morning, accumulating
Shiuli flowers, from everywhere,
With a big grin, knowing that
Baba would grasp her hand
If she falls while running around.
He was that hope and smile to me.
Grandma used to say, when they
Were falling apart, and life was
Mean to them, baba was born
It was october, and as this month
Brings hope with it, he did the same.
He brought smiles on tedious faces
He was like the first bloom of October-
Grandma used to say, caressing,
My head, looking at the sky.
October, to me, still brings hope,
I still collect shiuli flowers from those
Busy streets filling his graveyard
With them, hoping that he smiles
Looking at them.
It's october- and I am smiling again
Picking up Those shiuli flowers, knowing
That amongst all these things and
People which changed,
Spending october, with baba
Remained the same-
Now I must go, fill his graveyard
With flowers, he might be waiting for me.
©writerly
W