Abu, Papa, Dad
I hug you as often as I’m able,
joke with you as much as I can,
but years of American wonder have warped
my Urdu lehja1, my Pakistani soch2.
Papa, please know
that all the seconds we spend in silence,
all I am doing is seeking, chasing after
the right lafz3, the best cheezain4
to stay by your side.
lehja1 = accent | soch2 = thinking | lafz3 = words | cheezain4 = things
8 thoughts on "Abu, Papa, Dad"
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This is a beautifully tender poem.
Thank you 🙂
I agree – thanks so much for sharing this.
Thank you–I’m glad you got something out of it 🙂
This poem is gorgeous and well-done
Ah, thank you 🙂
This is lovely, Maira! (I hope you shared this with him)
Thank you! And he’s not a poetry/literature person, but I’ve expressed the sentiment to him before. 🙂