To Be Or To Be
October 1, 2011 18 Comments
To be a doctor was my Dad’s dream.
A hospital of my own, his viruppam.
Obstetrics, orthopedics or oncology?
On which, to be fair, he was not too picky.
For my Mom, a singer of rare talent I was to be.
A maestro rhapsodizing in ragas and melody.
Reaching heights and winning medals,
Cutting CD’s, closing lucrative deals.
Cricket was my Uncle’s choice,
Fours and sixes were his shrieks of joy,
Another Kapil Dev, he clearly saw in me.
Or a wicket-keeper at least if that be.
My Grandpa was a man of Kadhi,
Never was one to listen to Dadhi,
Went to jail twice in times of Gandhi,
Wanted me to live for aam admi
The dear Dadhi was long gone.
Her wish was sadly never known:
A scholar in scriptures or a temple priest?
Perhaps a cop solving a scam or a heist?
Well, wishes and wishes… so many.
I’m glad I didn’t disappoint them any.
Before you think I’m off the rails now,
It’s all on stage with paint and powder, that’s how!
Viruppam is desire. Aam admi is common man. Kadhi is hand-woven fabric. Dadhi is grandmamma.