As we bought the three-storied house
With our dreams and desires
To provide him a serene life.
But it broke our hearts to lose him.
But Dad, did not go alone
A part of us went with him
The day God called him home.
To feel his presence all the time
We hang his picture in the formal room
To keep him with us.
For four decades, we thought of him
In silence repeated his name
All that was left for an answer
Was his picture in the frame.
As once upon a time
His picture was in the frame
But now picture is gone
But the memories still remain.
There is a vacancy in the frame
Not sure, my picture will fit in
As my time comes.
Dr. Ram Mehta