On the Door

everyday at half past 4

i keep my ears on the door.

trying to wonder what your footsteps would have sounded like,

trying to figure out was it my fault some night?

everyday at half past 4

i keep my ears on the door.

I often wonder why you walked out that night,

Although i haven’t seen you ever,

You leaving, surely does click my memory. 

my mother has often talked about you,

but only unintentionally.

every time she is reminded of some hilarious memories of both of you,

the smile on her face is drawn carefully, 

and is even fragile,

which fades away, because you walked out one night. 

Father, I wanted to tell you something,

I wanted to tell you that i realised something great today.

That is, even if you don’t know a person, or haven’t met them ever,

that person can be remembered. 

In fact you can even be missed. 

my mother had told me that you had left early in the morning, 

around four, 

storming out,

and you never came back.

although you were harsh for leaving us, abandoning us,

we both, in our own funny ways,

still admire you, and my mother surely does cherish the memories,

that you left her with. 

and as for me? 

Well, everyday at half past 4

i keep my ears on the door.