Notes About The Poem
May- 31- 2026
'Father' Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Silent One
My Father
like a warm breath of air,
he hovers in my memory.
no Superman in other’s eyes,
a meek soul, but for me a true legend.
he was a jack of all trades.
he epitomized love and gentleness.
hard-working and committed to his family,
he was not one to squander his time.
he toiled day in and out
to feed those who he loved and sired.
what was he?
a teacher, a farmer, or an artist?
I cannot say precisely...
all I can say;
he was each of these
rolled into one.
I don’t think there was anyone like him around.
he was my English teacher at school,
and how proud I am of all that he taught me.
on holidays I saw him
shut in the loft, a brush in hand,
his fingers moving over the canvas.
the steaming tea by his side,
untouched and getting cold as ice.
unmindful of everything around,
he sat by the easel in the attic.
focused only on the strokes that fell.
when a distinct image shoots out,
as the moon from behind clouds,
a wave of satisfaction would gleam
across his face,
his frantic nerves at once hushed
bearing the look of one
who, in an instant, conquered kingdoms.
he would view it from different angles.
never seek anyone’s opinion
but gloating if he saw
our admiring eyes fell on it.
he was an avid reader too
and a skilled photographer.
the black and white photos
he caught in his camera still adorn our walls.
being artistically inclined,
he lived more in the world of art.
but gradually things changed.
to his fright, he found his hands shaky
and the lines on the canvas
going tremulous and disjointed.
couldn’t hold a brush!
the zealous man grew numb,
as the curtain of years fell on his stage!
on diagnosis of Parkinson’s disease,
his world abruptly lost its sheen.
he saw the disease weeding
its way into his life.
suddenly grown old,
he lost interest in everything.
we saw him sitting in his armchair,
so immobile, for hours on end,
his eyes stretched to a far horizon.
we displayed before him,
paintings once born of his imagination
to see if his world would brighten
and it worked!
recently, in one of my dreams,
I saw him sitting at the feet of Michael Angelo,
to learn the art, he couldn’t perfect
in his lifetime!
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