On Your 74th Run. Poem by Hardik Vaidya

On your 74th run.

I look back, in awe.
Then a chill runs down my spine.
If you were not my father,
I would not have seen sweat,
Dripping from your brows,
In devotion and dedication,
To the two of us.
Me your reflection,
Samarth your echo.
When your father died,
The train stopped at Wardhaa,
Bombay Howrah Mail.
We travelled second class sleeper,
You ran with two glasses of milk,
Warm,
God knows where you went to fetch it.
Your father was dead.
We were on our way to meet,
The ooze of emotions,
On his demise.
Alone, left in solitude.
I am thankful,
You are alive.
Happy birthday
Dad.


Hardik Mahesh Vaidya.
On Mahesh Madhusudan Vaidya's 74th run which commenced,
On 12 November 2013.