I never knew,
The warmth or the love,
That a father would shower,
On his child.

Growing up as a loner,
I would always,
Hate people who would ask me,
Where is your father?

I could never answer the question,
Because I frankly,
Did not know the answer.
I just had a hazy memory.

Of a very fair-skinned man,
With a thick moustache.
Those were all the memories.
That I had.

Growing up in a relative’s house,
One could never confide,
One’s innermost secrets.
Amma is amma and some things,

Well boys cannot say to their mums.
Nor to their sisters,
The joy of coming first in class,
Winning an essay competition.

Participating in the quiz-competition,
Coming first, getting a prize,
From the principal,
These are all cherished moments.

I wished you were there,
Next to me; cheering my small victories.
Instead when I finally meet you,
What do I find????

A demon – nothing more and nothing less,
Just a rank nuisance-causing individual,
Who never cared about his family.
You knew only one God – ‘the bottle’.

There have been times,
When I wanted to thrash you,
And kick the living daylights,
Out of your drunken stupor.

I kept calm,
Admitted you in rehab,
But of what avail?
You ran away!

It has been over four years now,
You don’t realize,
The irrepairable damage,
That you have inflicted on me.

I write this with immense sadness.
When my friends have,
Their dads as their heroes,
What do I have?




  1. I am so sorry to hear this. You don’t deserve to feel this way. I hope, over time, you are able to see something positive that came out of even this dire situation. Perhaps it made you who you are and be a different kind of father. If you are not ready to see the positive in this situation right away, that is totally fine as well.


    1. Thanks Vidya – for your kind words – yes all this has taught me to be a kinder person and when the time comes I hope I can be a good father to my children and a caring husband to my wife! Thanks!!!


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