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“Baba close your eyes.” It was Nikhil. He had quietly entered the room and was standing in front of him with his hands behind his back. Gautam shut his eyes.
A few seconds later Nikhil shouted, “Baba, now open your eyes.”
On the table in front of Gautam was a brand new cup.
“Baba, I got it today.”
“Its beautiful. Did you win a race?”
“No, Baba. There was a creative writing competition. I wrote a poem and recited it. I got the first prize. You want to listen to it?”
“Yes, Nikhil I would love to.”
Nikhil got up, took a bow and began:
The title of the poem is: ‘The Special Man in My Life‘:
I will tell you about someone.
Ten times as old as I,
Who has a heart that is
As large as the sky.
He tells me lovely stories
Almost every night,
And supports me whenever
With anyone I have a fight.
He is calm and cool
With lots of grace,
There is always a smile
On his handsome face.
Full of joy is he
And also very wise,
He appears to me
A Santa Clause in disguise.
I call him my Baba
I think he is truly great,
He has taught me always to love
And never ever to hate.
I love him much more
Than anyone ever can,
In my little life
He is the extra special man.
There is no place lovelier
On the world map,
Than my darling Baba’s
Secure and safe lap
Without my dear Baba
I feel like an orphan,
In every birth of mine
Please God make me his grandson.
“How is it?” Nikhil asked. Gautam was unable to speak. Tears were flowing down his cheeks. He reached out for his grandson and drawing him close hugged him.
