‘Can you change the music Nana?’ my three-year-old grandson spoke very softly.
The music that plays in my car is always of my liking, soft, romantic and sentimental songs of the 50s and 60s that one could never get tired of.
‘You don’t like it?’
‘We can play it at some other time,’… his answer amazed me! For a moment I thought I was talking to a mature person.
I looked back and both my stars smiled at me.
The distance from their school to our home is hardly two miles and within that much time, they have to share their prattle and listen to peppy music too!
‘Nana, please put it loud,’ he keeps on requesting, oblivious of the fact that soft music would never seem loud.
‘We don’t listen to a very loud music, dear’ I say in my grandmotherly style but my advice goes unheard.
‘Daddy always puts it super duper loud!’ he proudly declares.
I rummage through the old collection of CDs lying in the glove box of my car and stumble upon a peppy mix.
‘I can’t hear anything,’ he says while I am still loading the CD.
A squeal hits the roof! Louder! The demand doesn’t wane.
We reach home even before a single song could be heard and in a moment everything is forgotten, with new puddles to jump into and splashing water all over, making bubbles and catching them, pushing and apologising till I announce lunch time.
Time passes by like a whirlwind and everyday we heave a sigh of relief when these express trains go home. The treasured moments we choose to spend with our grandchildren are special because they testify that love returns, empty nest fills again with glee and giggles. I love the expression on their faces when they softly whisper… ‘Nana I love you.’
Each stage of childhood is awesome, each milestone precious, each hug emits the love of the whole world and we are glad we can share it more than their parents who are rushing (like once we did) to meet the challenges of life.
When my children flew out of my nest, I was heartbroken, wondering what is left in life, as our lives seemed to be buzzing only with them.
Slowly we learned to live without them, trying to detach.
This is one of the poems I wrote at that time:
Wheel Of Time…
Those tiny hands, which eagerly held us
Those dainty feet, which needed balance
Those lovely eyes, which emitted brightness
Those soft tears which needed endearment
Those fleeting moments that slipped by.
We take pride in
That unconditional love we shared
That eagerly sought guidance we treasured
That much needed support for each other
That joy of giving
That pain of separation!
The wheel of time moves on
New bonds, new ties ignite
Moments fleet, memories drift, shadows glide
There is always hope
At the horizon we seek.
The future, we search the past
The quest is common, perceptions differ
We soar with you, the flight is slow
We’ll be together
As past merges into future.
© Balroop Singh, 2003
We did soar with them, waiting, hoping and trying to peep into future, which is here!
Another poem that complements the older one:
We have found
Those tiny hands we searched
Those little feet that follow us
Those big eyes that beckon
Those angelic smiles to reckon
We take pride in
New love that is cuddlier
New bonds that clasp us
Delightful moments that glow
Rivulets of respect that flow
Now we know
If it pervades our souls
Love returns in another form
Detachment is just an illusion
It unlocks the secrets of delusion
Let’s not forget
Whatever you give comes back
Selfless and real love returns
Instill the value of love
Pour it in its purest form.
© Balroop Singh, 2018
Time for introspection!
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