By Janani Abishek
Here I see a little lad by name Ramalingam,
Pedalling his bicycle, accompanied by the moon, merrily.
They were chit-chatting about their fantasies and shared a burst of laughter.
Then struck a deafening thunderstorm, fading away the moon.
With tears welled up in his eyes, he looked out for his pal—he was nowhere.
The vacuum created in his heart thrust him to the ground,
Defying even the gravitational force that once made him stand upright.
He managed to pull himself together, cycling home,
Hoping to soothe his broken heart...
Though the downpour put an end to drought,
Famine persistently continued to stay on his family’s name list.
It wasn't just the rain that drenched him,
But his family's struggles too—
Turning even water droplets into acidic reminders
That tore at his mind and heart.
The two little hands that once penned great stories
Now restrained from authoring them.
The two little legs that once sped with dreams
Now received a speeding ticket...
The school that once quenched both mind and body
Now became a barrier to the family’s next meal.
There was air for breathing,
But not enough to inflate his cycle tyres—
So it reached the thrift store,
Serving as a day's meal for his family of nine.
Here I see a boy,
Shining like freshly manufactured glass—melted, moulded.
With a steadfast mindset for the road ahead.
His bare feet became prey to the steaming roads,
Just to avoid the expense of slippers.
A day had 24 hours,
Yet he borrowed more from tomorrow to run errands.
His vision wore blinders—
To filter out all distractions and focus solely
On uplifting his beloved ones.
He'd pass by the school where he once stood out as the class topper,
Only imagining his siblings flying high with dreams
That once lived in his own bucket list.
He took a moment to look at the moon—his old best pal.
He realized that the moon, faded by the thunderstorm,
Was back again in all its glow.
The moon spoke to him:
"My dear, I won’t always remain full. I undergo phase changes—
Just like you. This phase will pass too.
Stay strong, buddy. Look up to me whenever you are low.
I will be your guiding light."
This conversation boosted his spirit and spread a smile.
He was now able to afford a single room—
A house for his family to live in.
They had three meals a day.
What a victorious moment for the little lad!
Here I see a teenager—
With a budding moustache and beard.
The vessel under the tap awaited its fill,
As water droplets slowly pushed it toward the brim.
Just like that cumulative sum of hard work,
He opened a juice parlour.
With striking recipes and clever tactics,
He attracted customers and earned a living.
It wasn't electricity that lit their home,
But the soul’s years of cumbersome hard work.
His siblings all graduated.
The family once unknown came to the limelight—
Now proudly known as “The Family of Ramalingam.”
He parented his siblings and parents—
Not just played the role of a brother or son.
While others asked,
"Oh God, why should I suffer always?"
He saw every downfall as a lesson,
Roared back even stronger.
He thanked the Almighty for everything.
He stepped into new horizons—
Learning from the atomic level,
Mastering the art of gold ornament making.
From apprentice to owner—
He built his own business.
Good times knocked on his door.
His siblings were married,
They all settled.
He stood tall—no cape, just courage.
Here I see my loving dad,
Who shielded me from all the hardships that once shredded him into pieces—
Only for him to emerge as a winged bird.
In an era when daughters were silenced before their first cry,
He welcomed me like a treasure.
Even before I knew a thing existed,
He made sure it was within the reach of my arm.
He knew the value of every possession,
And so he instilled in me and my brother
The importance of education and ethics.
Both he and mom lived the values they taught.
For six whole years,
He dropped me to college every morning.
Professors said he too attended with me.
And on my graduation day,
When I held the gold medal—
I saw happy tears in my parents' eyes.
It was their dream I had fulfilled.
Here I see an enthusiastic grandfather,
Walking hand-in-hand with my son.
Every evening, my son runs to him,
Grabs the grocery bag, and looks for goodies.
The way my parents care for my son
Helps me relive my childhood.
We once flew to meet his old friend, the moon—
To tell him our happy stories.
From living under the roof of a single room,
He built a cozy dream house—
Where he now narrates bedtime stories under moonlight
With his wife and children.
The moon smiled today—
For the hero has achieved all his dreams.
He threw away the blinders
And now witnesses all the beauty of life as he walks forward.
Here I see myself—
Blessed to have been transformed from a flightless bird
Into one with wings...
All because my father
Is a superhero—without a cape.