On a Park Bench – The Philosophy of Life

Written in the park, this post is a summary of what many mothers, grandfathers and grandmothers talk while they walk and chat while they rest.

One by one, parents let their heart out as they walk,
You head back home from work thinking about them. Hoping they did not
fight or cry in your absence. Wondering what new ideas they might have
learnt and what old ones they may have conquered.

You reach home, they run into your arms and you know they have
missed you too. You kiss their tender cheeks and tell them in
loving words how important they are to you.
You lift them high in the air, endear them as rascals.
In their impish smiling eyes, your heart melts.

As children grew, they asked us simple questions for which we had
no easy answers. They were naughty, they tested our patience, and
made us angry by being stubborn mules. You chided them, cajoled them
and waited for them to learn. You saw them flower at unexpected
moments. Their inadequacies rested on our shoulders and their success
brimmed our faint hearts.

As years go by, many a parent turned grandparent secretly wish
their children remained children. The tenderness deeply missed.
Our children are celebrated and worried about, rediscovered
during pangs of separation and neglected in the art of growing up.

Everyone had spoken and there was silence. We head back home…
……

When you look around you know that every child is like a tree,
unique in its growth and prosper. They bloom, they flourish, they
surround us, and they shade us in a special way. Until our last breath
they permeate our every thought, action, and speech.

~ Imagine a world bereft of trees and children ~

Subhashini Chandramani is mother of a teenager. She is a homemaker and poetical story teller who writes under the pen name, neelavanam which means the blue sky. You can follow her thoughts at  http://neelavanam.tumblr.com/ and @Neelavanam on Twitter.