POETRY

Baba

A tribute to all the fathers who martyred during Christchurch shootings

I was wearing my prettiest salwar kameez that day. Like every other Friday, we were supposed to have lunch together. But, you came home with no appetite. You were full of rage, faith, terror, guilt, inability, valor, fortitude, devotion, and lifelessness!

Baba, you were a brave man. You tried your best to save your brothers from a troubled child. I am sure you would have forgiven him. Still not sure, how I will? He killed you because you were different than him. He killed you, Baba because he feared your kindness.

I complained a lot after you left us. We left our roof and made this land our abode, you told us we were safe here. I asked the Almighty, “My Baba was praying under your umbra, what was his fault?” I was foolish Baba, you were the luckiest. You died a martyr while saving his children in his arms.

I miss your laughter, your big burp. You give me endurance and a sense that we are not weak or afraid. The one who shot you was! I will honor you, Baba. I will celebrate all those Babas who were taken away!

Reach out to me at [email protected] and stay updated with me on Instagram @writeronrails.