Roots

Fear is needed to protect the seed,
It must be shielded from the wild.
Silently, it grows around the fence.
Becoming a strong tree, it naturally breaks free.

My Papa
As a child, when I was unreasonable and crying,
He quietly sat beside me,
Listening patiently for hours—
It always stayed with me,
His eyes, a deep ocean of love.
When fear troubled me at night,
I ran to him and hugged him tight.
Suddenly, I felt so brave—
Challenging the demons around.
My first taste of fearlessness
Was in Papa’s arms.

A Quiet Strength
He never tried to control or shout.
He never let his anger out.
His softness was often taken for granted,
Yet he stayed kind.
He chose not to pass his pain to the child—
To me, that wasn’t a small choice.
Love you, Papa.

Papa
The ladoos he got,
The biscuits he bought,
Fulfilling small desires,
Expressing his love.
What more does a child need?
This is how I first learned—
Desire isn’t always greed.

The Lost Soul
The child is confused,
Watching the world so strange—
Where fakeness is praised,
And simplicity is ignored.
Labelled them stubborn for not fitting in.
The child tries to follow,
Just to prove
He belongs.
Afraid to be left alone,
The child bends, hides—
Not knowing yet
He’s a lion cub,
Lost among a flock of sheep.