Callie Celebrates Poetic Excellence

I saw her,
running to him,
in times tough,
in hopes dim.

I saw her,
boasting about,
his guidance,
always n’ aloud.

I saw her,
hug him tight,
everytime they had,
another stupid fight.

I saw her,
bug him for a new dress,
when mom won’t give her,
and complain of stress.

I saw her,
show him off,
in girl-friends,
over the top.

I saw her,
teasing him and,
get teased when,
the love-bug bit them.

I saw her smiling,
I saw him protecting,
She- the sister,
He- the brother.

I never had one and I guess this poem shows how much I’ve missed out in life. And one day, I found Vinu. Leo for you and Vinu for me. He doesnt let me call him ‘Leo’. He considers irritating me as a duty and demanding from me as a right. He is a perfectionist. He bears with all my tantrums and all my mood swings. He fights with me if he is not the first commenter on my posts. He gets angry when I give too much attention to anyone else. He gets jealous if I address anyone else as a ‘brother’. He wants all my time. He rhymes with me, day in, day out. He does everything I’d have expected from a real brother. He is my sibling from another womb.

Even if you wouldn’t have done all this Vinu, I’m gonna be thankful to you forever, because you gave me the right to call you ‘bhaai’, something I have been aching to call someone.

About your writing, the whole blog world is in awe of your poetry. Let me just put it this way that each poem of yours is a masterpiece. Today ‘I Rhyme Without Reason’ boasts of 150 posts!! 🙂

Bhai, thank you for being there for this kid!!

I Love You!!!!

here’s a little something for you bhaai-





(I could have given you all the awards in this world. You are all this and sooooo much more!!!)

With all my love and care
Callie (for you).
Kajal (for few)
The Pink Orchid (for the rest of the world)

Poetry & writing are to me, a breath of fresh air in a life that is sometimes covered by the smoke of sorrow or self doubt. They also become the sweets I share to celebrate when life offers me a reason to. But most of all, they are to me, my life. For each word I write is a piece of my heart, a thought that just had to find its way into the world.

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