Tuesday, 27 December 2011


(for my daughter Dayadi Sucharya)

And she looks deep into my eyes
now and then.
Asks: are you crying? 
Says: wait a little, don’t go.
She runs into her room
brings out her most prized possession,
‘The Good King Sivi’.
Lady Birds her love
and waves her heart as handkerchief
in the manner of magician and lover
wipes tear and instructs:
‘Read this and you will remember me’.
She’s such a grandmother,
this daughter of mine,
and such a child too.

[from the collection 'Stray kites on string-less days]



  1. priceless ... you have used the most prized words to describe her. And i have a feeling that you have the most gifted children. Beautiful picture of you and lovely Dayadi.

  2. This comment has been removed by the author.

  3. Beautifully written .... i felt that this is a personal conversation between a father and a daughter ... lovely picture ....

  4. You need to write new poems for them mister!

  5. This comment has been removed by the author.

  6. This reminds me of Paul Simon's song Father and Daughter, hauntingly beautiful and different setting:

    If you leap awake in the mirror of a bad dream
    And for a fraction of a second you can't remember where you are
    Just open your window and follow your memory upstream
    To the meadow in the mountain where we counted every falling star

    I believe a light that shines on you will shine on you forever
    And though I can't guarantee there's nothing scary hiding under your bed
    I'm gonna stand guard like a postcard of a Golden Retriever
    And never leave 'til I leave you with a sweet dream in your head

    I'm gonna watch you shine
    Gonna watch you grow
    Gonna paint a sign
    So you'll always know
    As long as one and one is two
    There could never be a father
    Who loved his daughter more than I love you

    Trust your intuition
    It's just like goin' fishin'
    You cast your line and hope you get a bite
    But you don't need to waste your time
    Worryin' about the market place
    Try to help the human race
    Struggling to survive its harshest night

  7. She is lovely and she very well knows how to comfort her father . Whole poem is a bunch of love. May triple gem bless both of you !