“Papa, why did Maa wear flowers in her hair?”
My hands stilled for the briefest of times.
My smile wavered, but I kept it on.
My eyes stung with unshed tears,
tears that I blink away and glance at the photograph of us
on my bedside table.
“Because, she wanted to smell good all the time.”
As I finished braiding my daughter’s hair,
securing it with elastic bands with fake flowers,
she said, “Is that why you don’t let me wear flowers?”
I winced at her words.
How do I tell my second love of my life that
she is the splitting image of my first love?
That the only difference between them
are the flowers?
I told her, the standard “dad” reply,
“You’ll know when you get older.”
Well, it could’ve been better, but oh.
Lookie! I got myself a header! That I created all by myself!
I’m attempting Rebirth in April with Parvathi. Go check out her poems. They’re beautiful!