Unanswered Questions

By Rabani Dhingra

Remember when they used to pat us on the back,

While we were crying, they were trying to make us go back to sleep

Those sleepless nights you had for us,

That’s who our parents are,

Our only twinkling stars.

Remember when they used to tell us bizarre stories,

And then kiss us and said, us goodnight,

And had the sweetest dreams at night.

That’s how our parents made us feel,

Safe and sound, which made our hearts heal.

But what were we as children?

Sons and daughters of life’s longing for itself,

Though we came from them, but where do we belong?

In the steps of tomorrow or today’s dawn?

Our souls, where do they dwell?

In our childhood house or our tomorrow which we can’t tell?

Whom do we strive to be like?

Our parents or ourselves which society dislikes?

The parents, our archer and we the bow,

Were do we lie, in today’s hands, or tomorrow,

Though even the archer loves the arrow that flies

Even the bow doesn’t like when the archer cries.

By Rabani Dhingra