We were jumping on cushions,
submersing in the inflatable pool...
My brother was playing a remote-
controlled automobile toy as daddy
was teaching him the controls.
The first moments of chivalry was
with our dad... weekends of dinner
or lunch. He used to turn on
the stereo or cassette deck of classic
songs, songs of his age—while our
family was having a meal.
My mother was the one who introduced scrabble to me. We used to play this boardgame along with my brother back
then. I couldn't beat them in terms of tile
scoring. This stanza is for my mom—
from whom I inherited my inclination
to words. She'd usually buy newspapers
not to read the news content but
to solve the crossword puzzle at the end
The stuff that we had and those fractions
of events were not as much as what
made them sui generis; what
made them so was we weren't spending
life alone. Mommy and daddy were our
playmates and comrade.
Round the clock of being safe and
sound—the only thing that remains in my
memory, and not the column of opposites.