Silky Hair

Woman, wherever you sit, its radiance lightens up
To brighten the woes of our today
Like it has already been, for years

And each strand has a story to itself
And a rubric, coined with time
So as silky as it appears
It will forever be a sparkle in the dim days
And travel through time

To show glimpses of the miles trodded
And the heights achieved
Or even tell tales of the hands it has met

As its lustrous fibres continue to glitter
Each thought of our innocent hearts
While they journey on along the woes of today

Proud Parents

She stood up with an unusual confidence,
wrapped in her typical traditional blouse
she wore a three-quarter trousers, folded at the ends,
similar to how a banker would fold his shirt at his biceps
With a Spanish gray shoe, she was good to go
To stand before the altar,
opposite the seated congregation
to read the day’s gospel
Her presence announced virtue and intelligence
And her tone, that of seasoned globetrotter,
someone who’s schooled and lived in many parts of the globe
I bet she might know all the various flags in the world
Her accent was reasonably difficult to trace but at last, it sounded Canadian
I guess she barely knows or ever visits her home country India
Her parents, obvious expats stare with great relish
beside them, is a young cool headed chap,
I could tell that he is their son, the reader’s brother
I got an inkling that they might be originally from Uttar Pradesh,
a state located in the Northern part of their country,
Lucknow is its capital, that isn’t a coincidence either
You probably haven’t heard of it but I guess you know about the Taj Mahal
Their complexion isn’t the usual ones seen in blockbuster Bollywood movies
Let me put it this way, it looked more sun-tanned or perhaps much darker
From afar, you’d assume that they are Africans or of African descents
Just like the couple seated in front of them
Well, they may be from Nepal, who knows
She continued her reading
as I looked straight in her eyes,
not with the stare of a man known to be lustful
If an uninterrupted gaze could kill,
then I guess I would have
I could hear every sound of every word more clearly
than I ever did in my phonetics class
She paused where necessary and skipped no line
She’d be a great news broadcaster I’d thought
but deep down, I knew she’d be pursuing something
related to the sciences, at UCL perhaps or even at Yale, why not
No place is ever too far for an Indian expat
let alone if it’s in the interest of his child
But all that I’m certain about is that her parents are proud of her
and that she has the entire world at her humble feet
So keep going, you young Indian lady !