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Visiting Home

Those Blissful long summer vacations ,
   Like oasis after miles long stretch of sand ,
       Which I spent in my parental house ,
             With  my little toddler in my  hand .
Getting up at seven I would gap,
   Oh , why didn’t you wake me before ?
       Then relaxed to see no taunts or snaps ,
              My siblings giggling and laughing for sure .
 Where is the little one I will shout ?
     Playing in peon’ s quarters with Bahadur,s kids ,
            Now Bahadur was unmarried , just had a goat ,
                   Her kids will play with my kid a lot .
No running up and down , no tears in eyes ,
       Without worry I will eat and laze around,
               Selfish I turned, never thought of mother,
                      Who will slog preparing curry and rice .
Out in the evening ,playing in the lawn ,
       A hundred times he fell for grandma’s concern,
            Chuckling to see peacocks ,love birds abound ,
                  Quickly carried in when a snake was spied .
Walking behind my father and copying his gait ,
        Never worried he now about getting late ,
              Bemused my mother will laugh at my father,
                   He is the one who will teach you every trait .
Time moved fast and now time to go back,
        Seeing off at station whole family in a pack,
              With tears in eyes ,mother will thank God ,
                    Good that you are going now I am relaxed
***
Photo By: Joshua Rodigrez

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Dynamo

Written by Sarita Khullar

Sarita Khullar is a retired associate professor in English from Hans Raj Mahila Mahavidyalaya, Jalandhar. She loves poetry and fiction. She also likes birds, flowers, animals, and humans.

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