My son Manu, was born many years ago,
It gave a caressing, though unacceptable, touch to my bruised ego.
His elder sister, Bhavya my daughter,
Has always been full of giggles and laughter.
But it is only Manu and I, who share a taste of the
raw earth, two-twos and bird slaughter.
Now that my son, Manu is in his teens,
He pleads to Doctors and Sadhus to Kings and to Queens,
To cure his father of an illness very much unseen.
Many pals in the world may be,
There will never be a friendship, as between Manu and me.
He copies and pastes and wants to join Microsoft or if not then Hyundai,
For the gears and the steering he keeps a hunter’s eye.
The Medeleef’s table and equations he has learnt from me,
But a commercial programmer he wants to be,
Every day when the sun rises ,my friend promises to look after me.