Mistakes I never knew I made | Avantika Singhal

Dear Father,
Do you tend to eat your words?
Do you choke on them? Or, do
You just not like talking to me?

Dear Father,
Your complacent face will not
Allow me to guess what goes
On In that mind of yours. The
Chronic frown will ruin this
Relationship of ours.

Dear Father,
The silence eats away at my
Ears and I could do anything
To drive it away. So, talk.
Utter words. Say phrases.
Make me believe that there’s
Still some kind of hope.

Dear Father,
After a heart attack, a surprise
Visit to the nearby hospital, an
IV and an oxygen mask, you
Still won’t speak. Have my sins
Astounded you so much that
Even in your death bed, you
Do not seek to reconcile?

Dear Father,
Farewell. I tried.

Indian Literature & Arts Magazine | Avantika Singhal a budding poet writes for Indian Review. Join in the joy of literature.