Like a hypocrite obsessed with his lies, I cling to my son.. telling him stories, swimming, painting, teaching..Don’t know how much I affect him by drawing him towards me..probably because of my selfish needs..wanting him to save my soul..forgetting myself in his innocence..I wrote something when I was lying sleepless after he listened to me tell one of his favourite stories of vishnu killing all the demons , and he slept peacefully. Only that the same sleep which brings momentary peace was evading me, and some words started churning inside me...
When he slept while I was awake....
I pull my son towards me..
So that I get absorbed in his innocence
My phantom demons die and dissappear
With the one glance of his heart’s god
The vile arguments with my god
Vanishes when his presence is felt
To live , god forbid, without him
Is to die, each moment
and to be born to die each moment..
and when I was writing ‘my son’, I remembered the pasuram by periyazhwar who wrote, ‘My son , govindan.’... how did I miss these wonderful verses in tamil while Adhi was an infant??
¾ýÓ¸ò ÐîÍðÊ àí¸ò àí¸ò ¾ÅúóÐ §À¡ö
¦À¡ýÓ¸ì ¸¢ñ¸¢½¢ ¡÷ôÀô Òؾ¢ 嬂 ¸¢ýÈ¡ý
±ý Á¸ý §¸¡Å¢ó¾ý Üò¾¢ ¨ÉþÇ Á¡Á¾£
¿¢ý Ó¸õ ¸ñÏÇ ¬¸¢ø, ¿£Â¢í§¸ §¿¡ì¸¢ô §À¡.
The chutti dropping to his face
is swaying as my kannan sways
his golden anklets clang with mirth
as my son’s hand weave the earth
behold a while to see his pranks
Ye tender moon if you have eyes..
Periyazhwar..
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