My best friend, once, listed down
thousand reasons stating why I
should be loved and one of them
read, ‘she will never pick up your
calls, but is a very good listener’
‘Funny’, I told her.
Mom, sometimes plants a kiss
on my forehead, which feels soft
like the sky, a few minutes before
the sun sinks down the horizon.
Maybe even more lighter and
smoother than that. And then she
whispers, ‘Honey, you are beautiful.
I love you’.
My brother seldom reads the things
I write and when he finally does, he
appreciates them with a meagre ‘your poems are just fine’. •
But the way his eyes light up stars
and moons and galaxies all at once
while saying those words, I know he
means it. I know he means every
damn letter of, ‘your poems are just fine’.
And my dad, he stays silent like he
has been for eons. Maybe, he says
something my ears often miss. But,
he does smiles.
So, you telling me that I suck
doesn’t even matter. Because
I have got people who if tomorrow
my roots die a premature death
will never stop watering me.
And for them, I’ll revive.