Two poems for father

Preethi Govindaraj

Preethi Govindaraj is a poet and lives in Virginia with her family. She has an MSc Nursing degree and work as a Nurse navigator in the Lombardi Comprehensive Cancer Center, Washington DC. She have been composing English poems for a long time. She enjoys writing in Hindi and Urdu as well.

***

MY WISHES

You lie there trapped in 

a motionless body

which refuses to move

on your command.

Your verbal offerings are reduced

to angry, sometimes fearful screams

and throaty efforts to throw up saliva

are tedious tasks for you, it seems!

Your non-verbal expressions

are nods and slaps

tired childlike yawns

and naps to fill gaps!

Father's portrait
(Preethi Govindrajan)

I am aware of every line

and every contour

of your body- tending it

lovingly for three weeks.

I wonder if you are still

cared for, same as yesterday

or has the dirt creeped in

the crease of your skin folds?

Did someone infuse affection

as the steam was given

or rubbed in oil lovingly 

every time you were turned?

Did they spend a minute to hold your hand

did they whisper endearments

and peep into your soul

as I do in my imaginations?

What goes on in your mind

do you miss seeing my face

I am curious to know

if you even recognized me?

I am glad I brought you home

in your familiar surroundings

the window open to fresh sounds and sights

the sheets and clothes are only yours.

I miss fixing your glasses and tilting

the TV screen to fill your view

Propped on pillows- you sometimes seemed

keen, sometimes you closed your eyes.

I wish you would learn

to gradually recover

or leave the misery 

no longer to suffer!

I wish to bargain with God

but I know I can’t.

It is time to end my restlessness

and surrender, to wait.

Yet it will be what God decides

I will pray for your comfort

and hope that all my love and care

will soothe  away your hurt.

***

MY FLIGHT BACK

My eyes are closed, but my ears perk up

as I hear a little girl’s voice

she chatters away with her Dad,

her best friend of choice.

I open my eyes to see them

He has everything she needs 

he dotes on his daughter

she follows around, as he leads.

It is a scene from my life

a few decades ago

I had held my Dad’s hand

though it seems ages ago.

I had just said goodbye to my Dad

but he wasn’t aware

he nodded once, as though

he was really there….

I am not sure though his eyes

had opened wider 

their whites seemed duller

their brown ever imploring

searching me deep

does he see or hear me?

does he want to tell me

something important,

details I will never know.

I kissed his brown forehead

a million times

whispered into his ears

“ I love you, Daddy,

I am coming back soon.

Others will take good care of you

until then”

He turned around and held

onto the railing by the window

really tight….

I shed a tear and closed my eyes

to save this sight.

In my present, I find my eyes melting

the sharp swell hurting my throat,

tiny drops trapped in my lashes,

then gently flowing.

The tears flow finally free

as though they have been waiting

to hear a word, to see a frame

that has a Dad and daughter relating!

My cheeks have bathed 

in my copious tears

washing my sore consciousness

soothing my untold fears.

I am bleeding beneath,

a helpless, painful core!

I was covered in plastic

until now, it wasn’t me anymore.

Now I am attracting attention

but it doesn’t bother me

someone asks me if I am fine

I nod, I am okay

I  mumble

but the gush continues….

my face puckers

someone gives me a tissue

and I sniff into it

finally venting

after days of holding fort

of practical instructions,

and careful tending

my heart needed a time out

time for my mending!

***

---

Setu, May 2023