Remembering My Tagore

My Thakur [Tagore]

It was your pain painted on the paper,
Now it often comes and cries with me.
That day it rained outside your window,
Now the same tune often washes me.
Unseen a guilty love had nested in your heart once,
Those lines come walking the same path with me.
Trapped in routine, your mind had taken many a flight,
I too have borrowed the same wings for me.
As your words smiled on a bright day,
They come dancing everyday to me.
When the storm marred the starry night,
Your sorrow crept and stood beside me.

Though I haven't touched you,
Never met you or conversed as such,
Your whispers have never left me alone.

Dad..

A day to remember you or miss you. Your absence has become a habit or phenomenon. Growing up within the days when you were not around, your being was only a frame not moments or memories...
I have always craved to meet you. Talk to you and count the change of your facial expressions. How you smile? How you express anger? What is it like to be loved by you dad? How would you have scolded me? This all will remain unknown...forever.