There's aunts all over
my kitchen floor

Mother says they're awful
for the cookie badder

Oftentimes, we live in a processed world
but it's beyond my apprehension

Just please read me the recipe
or draw me a diaphragm

Times when the heart doesn’t feel its own beat
Lost, maybe some part of it forever displaced
Work makes sure, time is passed
Together, still doesn’t help
Stuck in some redundancy
Maybe, they work well, separately
Time and work
Maybe it’s for words to see

Whispering monsoon breeze
Goes swish swish between the trees
Makes a good recce of the place
Green and proper the trees
Some laden with fruits, it’s pleased
Tickles the magpies hid amongst the leaves
Ruffles the sparrow pecking at the seeds
Waves at the clouds and the crows passing by
Giggles at the trembling basil leaves
The touch me nots, wiggle at the very thought
The champa flowers that slowly bloom
Heady the fragrance, wafts through the rooms
The swift monsoon breeze,
Whispers between the trees
Agile in its ways, soon leaves for another place

Today as I try
I don’t have the words
Yet, can’t express
I call him and say
Happy Father’s Day
And wish him the best
As he has been to us
Thank you