To My Granddaughter Poem by Rati Saxena

My granddaughter is not talking to me
Neither on skype nor on what's App
She is no more interested in the stories
Of naughtiness of Zu Zu squirrel and Lina princess
She does not like to talk about the monkey and tree,
Which lived in our hearts

My granddaughter lost her childhood on the day
her birthday was not celebrated due to lockdown
her Dadda gone for special duty to the hospital
her Dadda did not hug her after returning back home

he was a different man,
staying in separate room
with mask on
Eating in separate utensils
Conferencing over phone.

She is lost her smile on the
day, she was asked not to hug him or
Climb on his shoulders,

Her only rest place is right knee of mother
Who is working whole day on the computer from home


I understand that this is not time to tell her the stories of
Jungle or animals, princes or squirrel
But I must tell her that there is always a struggle in this world
Which is sometimes called war
This war is against darkness for the light
This war is against evilness for the goodness
This war is against death for the life

In this war, there are some warier
Who fight for evil in the front line
They stand-up in front darkness
And try to give life to light

In every war the warier have different dress code
In this war the warriors have white and blue dresses


Your Dadda is standing in the front row
He is fighting he is
Collecting a bit darkness in his cells


When he returns home
He wants to save you,

I am sure, she will get back her childhood
When she her dadda will tell her stories of life after the war.