By Suhasi Thakar
I've started observing my parents getting old,
I've started observing how they are forgetting what they had been told.
I've started observing tiny wrinkles gradually hugging their faces,
I've started observing how they are not able to bend while tying their laces.
I've started observing how they don't want to work on Sundays,
I've started observing how they want to rest even on Mondays.
I've started observing their hair blending from black to brown and grey, and sooner into white,
I've started observing how they don't want to let go when I hug them tight.
I've started observing how long they keep staring at my childhood photograph,
I've started observing the moisture in their eyes when we're having a good laugh.
I've started observing how beautifully they're trying to slow down—
Like a ship, nearing its harbour,
Wanting to offload
Baggage of responsibilities ashore...
I've started loving my parents even more.