Wednesday, January 2, 2008


A smile.
A bud of fluffy drool
on the lip-tip.

Tongue a pink rosebud.
Eye a sky full of fireworks.

A slow step. Falter.

A chubby foot, a bit like a sixties sedan,
up in the air.
Fat rounding up and falling
around the waist
in slow motion.

My index fingers out –
hands come and grip them.

A pause.
Then, the sparkling, saline, amber shower
hits my face.
My son has made a mark.


Sowmya said...

What a wonderful way to remember the growing up of your little one.. while all the fathers remember too, I wonder how many of them feel so poetic about it...

k said...

shower power! good stuff shanks ;)

Prats said...

Came here from Shoonyata's blog, and really liked this page.
You write beautifully..

Pramshanks said...

Thanks Prats. Will keep at it... keep visiting.

Pramshanks said...

k, thanks for the compliment!

sahyadri said...

most touching... love the lilt in it :)