Showing posts with label Daughter. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Daughter. Show all posts

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Grown Up

“Oh! Hi Dad. Are you are already in Paris?” My daughter asked as soon as she picked up the phone at home.

“No. I am still in the USA. Waiting for my flight to take off”, I responded while stretching my legs and looking outside from Boeing 777 plane’s window.

“Okay. Why did you call?”

“I just wanted to say bye and find out if you are doing okay”

“I am good and bye”, uncharacteristically she hurriedly replied indicating the end of conversation.

“Hey, what is wrong? Talk to me.”

“Dad, I am busy. I have homework to do. What do you want to talk anyway?”

“I am bored sitting in the plane”, I replied.

“Why don’t you read an eBook on your iPad?” She gave an idea.

“I don’t feel like right now. I will read later.”

“How about traffic game on iPad?” She proposed another solution.

“iPad is in the computer bag stored in the overhead compartment.”

“Solve a Sudoku puzzles in the airline magazine” knowing I am addicted to Sudoku, she came up with another answer.

“Good idea but my pens are also stored in the computer bag.”

“You have thousands of Hindi songs on your phone”, she suggested another alternative.

“No. I don’t want to put headphones right now.”

“Dad!” She said sounding very annoyed and exasperated. But within a second, I heard her giggling and laughing.

“Why are you laughing?” I asked.

“Nothing,” instantly she replied.

“What is it?” I insisted.

“I can’t tell you. You will not like it,” she replied still chuckling.

“It does not matter. May be I will like it. Tell me.”

“Promise, you will not be mad at me.”

“I promise.”

“I was going to say something that you always tell me. But I did not say it,” she said pensively stretching the point that she did not say.

“Spill it out please,” I became very curious to know.

“No. You will be mad at me,” she said, still not sure about my reaction.

“I promise. I will not be mad at you. Not even a tiny bit,” I reiterated calmly and affectionately.

She said softly and quickly, “I was going to say: Dad, stop making excuses and be creative. Find solutions like a grown-up.”

I will let readers guess my reaction.

Tuesday, April 6, 2010

"Friends are...."

This short poem is written by my daughter.

Friends are the music that turn
Your sad face into
A smile

Friends are your old stuffed animal
That you never get
Tired of

Friends are a comedy movie
That makes you laugh
Day or night

Friends are your stars
Supporting and sorting the significance of you
They are special and surprising
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