I recently met my father after thirty or more years estrangement. I don’t think it necessary to go through any of the arguments for the distance but when waiting to board the delayed plane back from Mumbai I wrote the following:
Some stories that are written are inked in
Tears if undistinguished arguments and
Unsubstantiated anger, coughing
Out the memories between two stained lands
Where sad indifference has been the rule,
Which swept across the ordered years and left,
Like some brief tyrant’s passion for the cruel,
Silence; painful kisses somehow confessed,
Distance where hugging should be natural
And rejection of complete forgiveness.
So I found my father is paternal
And his conclusions not wholly loveless
There came this time, when two adults stood and stared
Then somehow knew that their two hearts had dared.